Insomnia
by SilverKytten
Summary: [PLEASE SEE BIO FOR UPDATE STATUS] When you carry world on your shoulders, who’s left to catch you when you fall?  RenjixIchigo. [minor spoilers throughout]
1. Insomnia

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of****Tite**** Kubo,**** I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.**

**Insomnia**

Ichigo huffed in annoyance and kicked a rock, his eyes following its progress as it skittered along the empty street. Zangetsu lay across his shoulder, a comforting and familiar weight, as he tried unsuccessfully to will a hollow into existence. He was restless, edgy and tired but he knew if he returned home he'd be unable to sleep. He hardly slept at all anymore. He would lie in his bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, his mind blazing with thoughts of Aizen, Soul Society, his family and friends; it was just too much to bear in the emptiness of his room. Better to be out looking for Hollows, because the fights exhausted him and left him blissfully unable to brood. He could sleep when the exhaustion took him.

The problem was that Hollow attacks were dwindling. Hitsugaya had relayed Soul Society's belief that this was an ominous sign, an indication of Aizen's continued preparation for a future assault. This was definitely a problem, but for Ichigo it was a more immediate issue. Without Hollows to fight he had a surplus of energy without an outlet, and that meant endless nights of wandering the empty streets. There was always training, Renji had offered to play the role of sparring partner anytime Ichigo said the word, and he said it often, but it still wasn't enough. He secretly suspected that Renji's offer stemmed from the same sense of restlessness he felt, more than a genuine desire to fight.

Finally abandoning his attempts to summon a Hollow through force of will alone, Ichigo settled for expanding his spiritual awareness, searching for wayward ghosts. If he couldn't kill something then the least he could do was help someone move on to a better place. His brow furrowed, he was never that good at sensing spirit force, and doing so in this manner was taxing even at the best of times. Extending his consciousness like fingers through the city he traced the different spirit threads, searching for the familiar tug of a ghostly presence. Finding nothing in the immediate area he pushed further, his body going deathly still in the cold chill of the darkness. He was about to admit defeat and resign himself to yet another night of deep ceiling tile contemplation, when he happened upon an unexpected, yet equally familiar reiatsu. Scowling, he turned his head in the direction of its source, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before finally setting off down the street.

Fifteen minutes later Ichigo found himself wandering along a hauntingly familiar riverbank, eyes fixed straight ahead, trying not to let his memories drag him under. It was hard enough to deal with the problems plaguing his present without dredging up the past to join them. By the time he spotted the lone figure ahead, his fists were clenched so tight that he was trembling, nails cutting into his palms.

He stopped for a moment, his internal battle temporarily forgotten as studied the other man. Renji was sitting with his back against a large tree, staring out over the water, lost in thought. Zabimaru lay casually against the thigh of one leg, and the arm resting atop the upturned knee was idly twisting the tie that usually contained his shockingly red hair. Freed from its restraint, the wild cascade now drifted around his shoulders and face, caught in the gentle breeze off of the river. He looked so much softer and more vulnerable in that moment and Ichigo found himself wishing he'd just gone home to his ceiling tiles after all. He suddenly felt like an intruder and turned away, wanting to escape.

"Yo, Ichigo." Even Renji's voice lacked its customary sharpness as it drifted to him across the heavy night air.

"Oh, hey, I was just….um…" he struggled for something casual to say but fell silent when Renji turned to pin him with his dark gaze.

"…wanderin' the streets leakin' spirit energy like ya do every night?" Renji supplied helpfully, a smirk playing across his lips.

"How do you… shut up! What are _you_ doing out here, anyway?" Ichigo was still a bit unnerved by this version of Renji and was relieved when the other returned his attention to the water.

"Same as you, I guess."

The younger man stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do next. He could, having managed to exchange somewhat polite words, now excuse himself and return home without feeling like he was fleeing. On the other hand, home held only the promise of another sleepless night of worry and, even though Renji was acting strangely, he was still a potential source of distraction.

"Ya gonna stand there all night starin' at me, or are you gonna sit down?"

Allowing Renji to make the decision for him, Ichigo closed the distance between them and dropped unceremoniously onto the grass, laying Zangetsu within easy reach. He turned his head slightly and found that Renji had locked that disconcerting stare on him once again.

"Ya look like shit," Renji muttered matter-of-factly, though there was no real hostility in the tone. "When's the last time ya slept?"

Ichigo huffed irritably, looking out over the river, "You're one to talk; doesn't look like you've been sleeping much yourself."

"Hm." Renji shifted Zabimaru to the grass at his side and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles.

The two sat in silence for awhile, both lost in their own thoughts, watching the currents drift lazily by. Ichigo shifted awkwardly, aware of the stiffness settling in his muscle form both the cold and fatigue. He rolled his neck, trying to work out a kink, and felt his shoulder brush against his companion. Renji twitched faintly and leaned towards him, bringing their bodies back into contact and sharing his warmth, though whether consciously or unconsciously Ichigo couldn't tell.

"My mother was killed by a Hollow along this river." He wasn't sure what prompted this admission, but somehow it seemed important and there was no taking it back even if it wasn't.

"Ya, Rukia said somthin' about that once." Renji admitted quietly.

"It wanted to kill me, but she got in the way."

He felt the shoulder shift against his and could feel the weight of Renji's dark gaze, though the other man remained silent. Ichigo's eyes slid closed as the breezes stirred tendrils of fine red hair that reached out to brush against his cheek.

"I used to think it was my fault, you know, because she got killed trying to save me, but I guess I was just a kid and she was my mom and that's the way things happen sometimes. I don't know."

His eyes were still closed, and in the darkness the tickle of hair against his skin felt almost like the gentle caress of fingers. For a moment he longed for that kind of compassion, for someone, anyone, to just brush away his worries and tell him that everything was going to be okay, even if it was a lie. His mother had done that for him once upon a time, but she was long gone, he had forgotten how to smile, and his problems were far too large for kind words to heal.

"She and I have a lot in common, I guess. She died protecting me, and I'm probably going to die protecting the people I care about. At least that's how I'd like to go, if it comes down to it."

He turned toward Renji and found him still watching quietly. It was almost surreal. Renji, quiet and subdued as he listened to him pour out his problems.

"Who are you and where's Renji?" the younger shinigami smirked.

"Shut up, dumbass! I'm tryin' to be supportive!" Renji growled, jerking back around to face the water. Ichigo snorted, a bit relieved by the outburst and silence stretched on again.

"I didn't want to be a shinigami." Ichigo flinched at the sound of the voice and turned, finding Renji staring down at his hands, his face hidden by a curtain of hair. "Me, Rukia, our friends, we were all gonna stick together, grow up together. We had all these plans that we'd worked out, sat up laughin' about at night." His hands clenched, the knuckles going white for a second before he relaxed again. "Then they all died and I realized that the only way I'd ever be strong enough to protect anyone was if I trained. No real choice there."

Renji reached up to brush the hair back behind his ear and Ichigo could see him frowning against the memories.

"I became a shinigami to protect my family, and now they're in danger because I'm a shinigami. How's that for ironic?" Ichigo tossed out, trying to distract him from the haunted look in his eyes.

The older man chuckled dryly, "Is that what keeps you up at night?"

Ichigo rubbed a hand across his eyes and up through his hair, "It's part of it. Them, Inoue, Chad, Ishida, the people at school, the people in Soul Society…fucking _Aizen_! I can't be everywhere!"

"So you wander around, tryin' to keep an eye on everyone, wearin' yourself out 'till you're no good to no one?" Renji's gaze was unusually shrewd.

"It's all I can do, and it's better than staring at a wall and wondering if everyone's okay, or if someone's bleeding in an alley, or dead, or missing…" Agitated, he started to rise but Renji caught his sleeve and yanked him back down, hard. "What the hell, Renji!"

"Shut up for a minute; I'm tryin' to find it." he dug through his pockets for a second before pulling out what looked suspiciously like a cell phone.

"Your Soul Society communicator?" Ichigo stared at it blankly.

"Yeah, look." He leaned over and flipped it open, holding it between the two. "They're all fine."

He pushed a button and Ichigo saw a map of the street his family's clinic was on, another push of the button and there was Inoue's street, and Chad's, and Ishida's. Text scrolled along the bottom of each image indicating the area was all clear.

"You've been watching us all?" Ichigo frowned, shifting his gaze from the screen to the man holding it.

"Of course, idiot, that's part of my job." Renji looked thoroughly annoyed as he dropped the phone into Ichigo's lap. "It's not like I set up surveillance in your room, just watching the area. See for yourself."

Ichigo spent several long minutes cycling through all of the monitored areas. "How'd you know where Ishida lives? I don't even know that."

Renji laughed, the first really amused sound of the night, "I followed him home one day. He bitched the whole way, too, about shinigami stalkers and people not treatin' him with respect. It was worth it for that alone."

Ichigo couldn't help but smile as he suddenly felt lighter than he had in days. Beside him, Renji launched into a blow by blow reenactment of his encounter with the bespectacled Quincy, complete with a fairly decent impression of the other's incredibly irritated voice. Ichigo found himself laughing out loud, though his eyes remained glued to the tiny screen in his hands. Renji, seemingly encouraged by his response settled more comfortably into the tree and began to regale him with humorous tales from the various divisions that he'd served in, and even a few from his academy days.

Slowly the tension began to drain from Ichigo's body, and as the threads of worry that had been holding him up slid away, the exhaustion started to creep in. He didn't even realize that he was nodding until he felt something slip behind his back and his world did a funny little roll. His eyes popped open and he found himself staring at knees, Renji's knees to be exact; the redhead had pulled Ichigo's head into his lap.

"What the fuck...?" he slurred, blinking and briefly trying to right himself before a strong hand pushed him back down.

A curtain of hair fell around him and he looked up to find Renji leaning over him. "You were startin' to fall and I thought it might be safer if you were closer to the ground."

"I can't just lay here with my head in your fucking lap, Renji!" He wanted to sit up again but the older man was still leaning over him, and exhaustion had rendered his arms far too heavy to push him away.

"Sure you can," the redhead's grin flashed briefly in the dark, "I ain't gonna tell no one, and besides, you really need the rest."

The hair drew back as the other straightened, but he found himself unable to move away. His body felt like it was made of stone. Even his mind seemed sluggish, incapable of finding a suitable reason to _not_ be lying out under the stars cradled against another man, though he was certain there should be many. He had almost given in completely when he remembered the others, the people who were counting on him, out there somewhere in the city. Renji must have felt him tense because a moment later a hand cradling the communicator slipped into view.

"I've got them all right here, Ichigo. How 'bout you just let me keep an eye on them for tonight."

Ichigo grunted something noncommittal as he watched Renji thumb past the streets through half closed eyes. A gentle tickle along his scalp seeped into his sleep addled brain and he realized that the other shinigami had brought a hand up to run through his hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the little voice that remembered why he shouldn't have his head in Renji's lap was grumbling about this new development, but it was quickly silenced as long fingers began to move through his locks in soothing, nonsensical patterns. His eyes slipped closed as he gave in to the painfully soft caress of the fingers, and the aching promise of sleep. There was a soft click as Renji closed the communicator and Ichigo felt a warm hand settle on his side, just below the bend of his elbow, comforting and protective.

"Why are you doing this?" the words were badly slurred.

There was no answer from above as the fingers continued to work their magic, ghosting across his ear and the back of his neck. A few moments later it didn't matter, the last wisps of consciousness faded away and the darkness took him. Renji continued to drag his fingers through the unruly mop of orange hair even after the boy's breathing evened out, staring out over the water. He was strong enough to carry them all now, if only for one night. This is why he had become a shinigami.

* * *

A/N: I'm still undecided as to whether I want to continue this story or simply leave it as a oneshot. I think that it could work either way. I suppose I'll leave it up to the reviews :). 


	2. Damage Control

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo; I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Damage Control **

Ichigo woke with the dawn as the first shafts of light spilled in through his open curtains. He frowned, eyes still clenched tightly, wondering how he could have forgotten to shut them. He was just starting to contemplate how to close them with his foot when the fog began to lift from his brain and he remembered _exactly_ why he hadn't shut the curtains when he went to bed. His eyes shot open. It was because he hadn't gone to bed. He'd gone out to patrol and then, for reasons that completely escaped him presently, decided to curl up and fall asleep in the lap of none other than Abarai Renji. He bolted upright and half-rolled, half-fell out of bed to crouch in the middle of the floor, his eyes darting around as though expecting Renji to be waiting somewhere to offer up his lap again.

He sat down with a thud, scrubbing his face with his hands and trying to think in terms of damage control. He'd fallen asleep in the lap of one of his greatest rivals. Granted it was a friendly rivalry, but the fact still remained. Not only that, but he'd done so while said rival was _playing_ with his hair. His hands stilled. Honestly, he wasn't sure whose reputation was more damaged by that last fact so he decided just not to think about it anymore. If that had been the end of it there might have still been a chance for redemption, but it was worse. He'd woken up back in his body and in his own bed which meant that someone had put him in both. A strangled whimper snuck out from under the hands still pressed to his face as he was swarmed with visions of Renji carrying his sleeping body through the streets. As he lamented this latest development, a newer and more horrific thought occurred to him. He managed to pry two fingers from his right eye to confirm what the breeze had already told him; he was stripped down to his boxers. He was most certain that the last time he'd seen this body it had been wearing pants. Ah yes, there they were, folded over the back of his chair along with his shirt. The fingers slipped back into place. It was official, he, Kurosaki Ichigo, was never going to live this down.

**(*)**

An hour later he was showered, dressed, and sitting alone at the kitchen table thinking. Sometime during his shower the horror had faded to simmering embarrassment as the rest of his life issues resurfaced and demanded his full attention. In the long run, even if Renji never let him live this down it was a good thing, because it would mean he was still alive. Ever since he'd gotten his inner hollow under control, he'd started to entertain the hope that he might just make it out of the impending war. It was sort of a slim hope, but it was better than what he'd had before. When Rukia wandered downstairs half an hour later he was still sitting in the same place, forehead resting against the hard wood of the table.

"You're up early," she commented, walking past him to dig in the cupboards. "I thought I was going to have to drag you out of bed."

"Sorry to disappoint you." he muttered, head still glued to the table.

"Urahara sent a message last night; he wants us to stop by this morning." She ignored his tone completely.

"Hm."

"You were out late again last night; you woke me up with all that banging around," she admonished, sitting down across from him. "You should be more considerate of your family's sleep."

"Yeah, I'll work on that," he bit out, trying to keep his temper in check.

She ate in silence for a few minutes, studying the top of his head. Unable to bear the scrutiny any longer he finally pushed up off the table and slouched back in his chair, meeting her gaze with an unspoken challenge.

"You're not the only one here, you know," she informed him impatiently. "You don't have to be out there every night."

"I know that, but it's not like I have anything better to do." He crossed his arms over his chest and dropped her gaze, looking out the window.

"Nonsense. You could be resting, that's important, too. Honestly, it's like you think we're all going to disappear if you're not there for one second. I'll have you know that I've been doing this for longer than you've been alive! If Nii-sama hadn't stepped in I'd be a seated officer right now."

She continued to rant, but he'd managed to tune her out. He couldn't bear to listen to her because when he did he thought of her fighting, and when he thought of her fighting all he could see was her standing there with a hand through her gut. He could hear her sword clatter as it hit the street, see the shock etched into her face, the blood streaking her clothes. His face went white and then a little green as he pushed back from the table suddenly, startling his companion.

"What's wrong, Ichigo?"

"Nothing." He was already halfway out of the room, keeping his voice low so as to not wake his family. "I just forgot something in my room."

The trip to Urahara's shop was made in silence, with Rukia throwing questioning and worried glances at him from time to time. For the most part he just ignored her; the one time he asked her to stop it had led to an argument that lasted for five minutes. Better to just think about something else. He'd almost fully immersed himself in his own little world when they rounded the last corner and found Renji sitting against the wall in his gigai, waiting for them. Suddenly walking was far too complicated a task and only his shinigami reflexes saved him from face planting into the sidewalk.

"How've ya managed to win so many fights when ya can't even walk right?" Renji smirked, unfolding himself from the ground.

"Shut up, dumbass, there was a rock!" Ichigo shouted, trying to fight down a blush.

"I don't see a rock," Rukia remarked helpfully, peering down at his feet.

"Well it was there!" he yelled, storming past them and into the store, his ears ringing with Renji's soft chuckle and Rukia's continued observations about the absent rock.

Luckily, Renji had something to do in the basement and quickly disappeared, leaving he and Rukia alone with an unusually subdued Urahara. The looming threat of war was weighing heavily on everyone it seemed and the former captain dispensed with his usual flamboyant mannerisms in favor of cutting straight to the point. He was working on something, which he didn't feel like divulging the details of, and he needed to collect a few samples from Ichigo. Unsurprisingly, this was not entirely well received, but after repeatedly reassuring the younger man that the device was definitely intended to _help_ and was in no way a repeat of the Rukia episode, he finally relented. He answered a few rather bizarre questions about his inner hollow, glad that Urahara had asked Rukia to wait in the other room, and allowed himself to be hooked to a couple of strange looking machines. After about an hour, the older man tapped his lips thoughtfully, stared off into space for several minutes and then told Ichigo he could leave.

"Hey," Ichigo called after him, "Are you going to tell me what you're doing?"

Urahara paused, looking at him over his shoulder, "Hopefully soon, I wouldn't want to get any hopes up before I'm a little more certain."

**(*)**

The hollow shrieked at him, angry and stupid. He'd really been hoping for a low level Arrancar, something that would put up a bit of a fight, but sometimes you took what you could get. A quick dodge, two slashes and it was over. Ichigo sighed, it was hardly worth bringing Zangetsu out for fights like that one. Maybe he'd just try hand to hand next time. The brief jolt of adrenaline had left him more awake than ever.

Settling Zangetsu securely on his back he turned a slow circle, weighing his options. If it wasn't already so late he'd have considered heading to Urahara's basement to let off a little steam, but the older man had looked so tired that afternoon that he quickly dismissed the idea. Despite having managed a few hours of sleep the night before, his body was still screaming at him for rest. He thought about home and bed, but he just couldn't face it. Frustrated and out of options he settled for the one thing he'd promised himself he wouldn't do. Standing there in the middle of the empty sidewalk he closed his eyes and began to search for traces of Renji's reiatsu.

Almost immediately his eyes popped open and he frowned, glancing in the direction he'd come from. It was only a block and a half back to his house, but he took it slow. When the structure finally came into view he was unsurprised to see a figure sitting on the roof, staring down at him. To his relief, Renji looked like Renji tonight, no loose hair or haunted eyes. Ichigo landed easily next to him.

"What are you doing here?" His tone was relaxed even though he felt the tease of embarrassment stirring in his stomach.

"The alarm for your neighborhood went off." Renji tipped his head to look up at him. "By the time I got here you were already fightin'. Didn't think you'd appreciate help."

"Yeah, probably not." He smirked, removing Zangetsu and dropping down next to the other man. "Did you have to come far?"

Renji shook his head, "No, not really. I was already out."

The silence stretched between them, not really uncomfortable, just thoughtful. Ichigo fidgeted a bit, picking at a thread on his sleeve, and cast a surreptitious glance at his companion. He opened his mouth, then frowned and closed it again, going back to the seemingly fascinating stray thread. He repeated the entire process two more times before Renji's dry chuckle brought his full attention around.

"Whatever's on your mind just say it, you're acting like a damn woman."

Ichigo bristled, "Bastard. I was gonna apologize about last night but now you can forget about it."

"Ya ain't got nothin' to apologize for," Renji huffed in annoyance, looking back out at the city.

"Yeah, well maybe I feel weird about falling asleep on another _guy_!" Ichigo hissed in a stage whisper, conscious that Rukia was asleep somewhere below them with his sisters.

"That's stupid," Renji snapped, his attention back on the younger man. "If you're gonna be sorry for somethin' then how 'bout makin' me carry your heavy ass half way across the city. You sleep like a damn rock."

"Ha! Probably good for you to get some exercise with as slow as you've been lately." Ichigo taunted.

"I'm slow?" Renji's eyes were blazing in outrage. "Aizen himself coulda jumped us last night and you'd of just snored right through it. Good thing I was there to keep an eye on ya."

"No one asked you to keep an eye on anything." Ichigo was fuming, trying to burn a hole in Renji with his glare.

"Someone had to," Renji scoffed. "Hell, you didn't even wake up when I dropped you in your room."

"Oh yeah. Was that before or after you decided to take off my pants?" As soon as the words rolled out of his mouth he was cursing himself, the heat rising into his cheeks. He'd promised himself he wasn't going to bring that up, but Renji always managed to push him to a state where he forgot how to use the filter between his brain and mouth.

Renji seemed to have lost his train of thought and was instead opting to stare at him like he'd grown a second head. "What the hell do your pants have to do with anythin'?"

Ichigo, for his part, just sat there with his mouth slightly open but no words coming out.

"You wanted to sleep in your pants?" The confusion was evident.

"No, I just…I mean…" Ichigo raked an agitated hand through his hair as he tried to remember where this argument had been going before he'd crashed it into a mountain.

Beside him, Renji's confusion had settled into a smirk. "You're being all girly again, aren't ya?"

Ichigo glared at him, but Renji paid no attention. "I'm pretty sure you ain't got nothin' down there that I'm unfamiliar with."

Ichigo felt his left eye twitch and was about to launch into a full scale assault when Renji's communicator went off. They both jumped and there was a clatter as something came loose and slid over the edge of the roof. Renji flipped open the tiny screen and began thumbing through buttons, Ichigo hovering over his shoulder. After a few seconds, the tension slipped from the older man and he flipped the little device closed.

"Delayed message from Soul Society, just routine stuff." He rubbed a hand across his face.

Up close, now that they had stopped arguing, Ichigo could see just how warn out Renji really was. His eyes were drooping and there were lines of tension etched around his mouth, eyes and brow. He looked as bad as Ichigo felt and, not for the first time, Ichigo wondered if Renji was sleeping any more than he was. He knew for a fact that the other man had stayed up all last night, and from a couple of his comments it was a fair bet that their habits were probably similar.

"Let's go inside, it's cold out here."

"You're voluntarily lettin' me in your house?" Even Renji's smirk was tired.

"You got somewhere better to be?" Ichigo leveled him with a glare, though he couldn't really find much energy to put behind it.

When he received no answer, he took it as consent and felt a brief flash of triumph, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out what he'd won. Sighing, he reached behind him, encountering only roof tiles. Twisting he looked around briefly before paling.

"Shit!" he scrambled on hands and knees to the edge of the roof, looking over into the darkness.

"What's wrong?" Renji slid into place next to him.

"I think I dropped Zangetsu off the roof." Ichigo winced at the thought, "He's gonna be pissed."

**(*)**

"So if you can keep an eye on everyone with your communicator, then what were you doing wandering around town?" Ichigo, having retrieved his zanpakutou and returned to his body was currently sitting at the foot of his bed flipping past the various streets.

"Eh?" Renji cracked an eye open to look at him over folded arms. He had drug Ichigo's desk chair around and was straddling it backwards. "Better to be out movin' than staring at a wall thinkin' about being out movin'."

"Can't argue with that." Ichigo flipped the screen closed and leaned back against the wall, arms resting on splayed knees.

"Wanna go back out? I know you didn't make it very far tonight." This time Renji didn't bother to open his eyes.

Ichigo slouched a little lower. "Eh, maybe later, I can keep an eye on things with your phone for now."

"Communicator," mumbled Renji.

Ichigo just rolled his eyes. "I was thinking about how we met today. When you and Byakuya came to get Rukia and tried to kill me."

"What about it?" Renji spoke into his arms.

"Nothing really, just thinking how far we've all come. You tried to kill me, Byakuya almost _did_ kill me, and then I busted into Soul Society and tried to kill both of you. I fought a bunch of people, blew a lot of shit up and yet here we all are, sitting around waiting to fight a war together. Weird shit."

"If you'd wanted to kill me, you would have. I mean in the second fight, not the first one, Kuchiki- taichou totally kicked your ass in the first one," Renji chuckled, turning his head slightly to look at Ichigo. "Hell, you let me stagger all the way back over to ya; one shot's all it would have taken."

"Yeah, well you were already pretty messed up, not like you were much of a threat." Ichigo dropped his gaze to the bed between his feet.

"See, you just wanted to beat me, not kill me. Nothing's changed," Renji smirked, slipping his face back into the crook of his arm.

"I could kick your ass anytime," Ichigo grumbled, shooting a glare at the top of the other man's head.

"Hm."

Ichigo just shook his head, resting his elbows on his knees so that he could thread his fingers through his hair.

"Why _didn't_ you try to kill me?" Renji's voice was soft, roughened a bit by fatigue.

"I don't really know," Ichigo kept his eyes fixed on the bed, brow furrowed in thought. "I know that I didn't want to, but I'm not sure why. Hell, I was even a bit worried about you after the fight; I asked Hanataro if he thought you'd be okay."

Ichigo fell into silence, thinking back over his time in Soul Society, of all of the people he'd been forced to fight. He'd gone out of his way to avoid killing anyone, he realized. His life had been so different at that time; he'd been softer, more forgiving. His only goal had been to rescue Rukia. Compared to now, those were good times in his life. He'd gotten stronger, he'd accomplished his mission, and he'd even managed to make some friends. If you could call them that. Now it seemed like every time he went into a fight his only goal was to kill something. Life had gotten both simpler and more complex all at the same time. He looked up, intent on sharing his observations only to find his companion asleep, head cushioned against one arm while the other hung limp over the back of the chair.

He watched Renji sleep for awhile, lost in thought, pausing occasionally to check the communicator for activity. The older man shifted slightly, brows drawing together in a frown and Ichigo wondered what he was dreaming about. He was probably uncomfortable sleeping hunched over a chair. Ichigo sighed, dragging himself off of his bed.

He paced a half circle around the sleeping man, wondering if he should wake him but decided against it. If Renji could take care of him while he was sleeping then he could damn well do the same for Renji. Opting to go with the most obvious first, he moved forward and took hold of Zabimaru, pulling him gently from the sash at Renji's waist. He had expected Renji to stir at the intrusion, but the other shinigami slept on.

"Some protector he is…" he muttered to the sword, placing it on his desk.

Returning to the sleeping figure he hesitated only slightly before reaching out for the tie that held Renji's hair back. He struggled with it gently for a moment before it came free, sending a cascade of red down Renji's back and around his face. Stepping close behind the other man, Ichigo reached forward and slid his arms around his chest, eying him warily for any sign that he might be stirring. Gently and slowly Ichigo drew Renji towards him until his weight was resting against his chest, his head lolling to one side. Bracing him with one arm, the younger man reached down and tired to loosen the sash at his waist.

"Damn shinigami clothes," he muttered, wondering why this was so much harder on another person.

Conceding defeat momentarily, he slipped into a half crouch, sliding Renji higher up his chest so that he could wrap both arms around to work the knot. Renji's head slipped onto the younger mans shoulder and he stirred in his sleep, his nose brushing gently against Ichigo's jaw. Fingers stilled briefly, but Renji slept on. Returning to the task, Ichigo made short work of the sash, letting it fall silently to the floor. Slipping his fingers under the cloth he peeled away both the outer kimono and the white undershirt, shifting Renji's weight so that he could pull them down over his shoulders. Careful not to jar him, he pressed the limp body forward just enough to slip his arms over the top of the cloth and back around his chest, slowly tugging the layers free from the confines of the slightly loosened hakama. Renji's breath hitched softly as the last of the cloth pulled lose and Ichigo felt the heat creep into his cheeks as the kimono joined the sash on the floor.

He stayed there for a minute, cradling a half naked Renji against his chest, considering how he was going to get him out of the chair without waking him. He wondered briefly how Renji had carried him across the city last night but pushed the thought from his mind.

His aching legs told him it was time to move so he decided to wing it. Tightening his grip on the other man he straightened awkwardly, dragging the larger body with him. Letting all of Renji's weight rest in one arm he bent down and hooked his legs with his other. He staggered once but managed to right himself, bringing Renji fully off the ground.

"Fucking heavy bastard." He gritted his teeth and stepped around the chair towards the bed.

He laid Renji on top of the sheets and stood back, panting slightly, eyeing the other man critically. His gaze settled on the hakama and he considered reaching out to remove them, too. Then again, he wasn't entirely sure what Renji had on under them and was somewhat reluctant to go exploring. He reached for the blanket, drawing it part way over the motionless body, the backs of his fingers brushing gently against the tattooed abdomen.

His eyes traced the path of the markings across the expanse of pale flesh. He'd seen them before, of course, but it was usually accompanied with either blood or bandages. On their own, they looked impossibly dark against the skin, like charcoal etched across the surface rather than something that lay beneath. Unconsciously, Ichigo reached out to trace a line that ran across the lower ribs, drawing his fingers further over the unmarred skin, half expecting the crisp edges to smear. He dipped lower to rejoin the marks where they trailed over his stomach and the muscles flinched slightly under his touch. Startled, he shot a glance at Renji's face and found the other man watching him through half lidded eyes.

"That tickles," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

Ichigo jumped, snatching his had away as though he'd been burned.

"S-sorry," he stammered, taking a step back.

"Still ain't got nothin' to be sorry about," Renji mumbled, dragging himself onto his side and tucking an arm under his head. "Except maybe callin' me heavy."

Ichigo wondered if someone had cast a binding spell on him, because his body didn't seem to want to move. Renji had been awake. How long had Renji been awake? Suddenly the idea of repaying a favor didn't seem like such a good one. This was certainly not a practical way to live down his embarrassment from the previous night.

"You really are a fuckin' girl." Renji's eyes slipped closed as his sleep rough chuckle reached Ichigo's ears.

The younger man scowled, "You could have said something if you were awake."

Renji settled more deeply into the mattress. "Wasn't awake till you picked me up, and I didn't feel like walkin' myself."

Ichigo huffed in annoyance, his cheeks still burning. Muttering a string of curses, he retrieved the communicator from where it had fallen and threw himself into the now unoccupied chair.

"You gonna keep an eye on things?" Renji's voice was barely audible as he slipped back into the darkness.

"Well someone's got to do it while your lazy ass is sleeping," he grumbled, a smirk finally making its way to his lips.

Renji didn't respond, he was already gone. Ichigo settled more comfortably into the chair and flipped the screen open, watching the streets flash by. He spared Renji a glance from time to time, wondering what went on in his brain sometimes. Every time he thought he had the other man figured out he'd do something that just crushed the whole image. Sighing, Ichigo resigned himself to the fact that he'd probably have plenty of time study the problem, if the last two nights were any indication. He turned his attention back to the screen. No time to worry about it tonight, there were people relying on him and he couldn't afford to let them down.


	3. Liability

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo; I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Liability **

Something sharp jabbed him in the ribs and Ichigo jerked upright, realizing that he'd been nodding off again. In the desk beside him, Rukia tucked a pencil back under her notebook and refocused her attention on the teacher droning away at the front of the room. Ichigo yawned, scrubbing his face with his hands. It wasn't enough that he had the fate of the world to worry about; Rukia was still making him go to school. Other than a few sporadic and disastrous occasions, none of the other shinigami spent much time around there anymore. Hell, Renji had still been asleep when he'd left this morning, shutting his bedroom door tight and hoping he had enough sense to leave through the window. He was fairly certain that Karin was at school, but there was no need to run the risk of being spotted his overly spirit aware sister.

He slipped a hand into his pocket, tracing the lines of the communicator and wondering again if he should have left it. When Renji had shown no signs of waking he'd hastily scribbled a note about his decision, dropped the device in his pocket and run out to meet Rukia before she could come looking for him.

He shifted in his seat, trying to concentrate on the flood of historical references wafting monotonously from the front of the room, but his mind kept drifting back to the events of the past two days. First there had been the lap incident; he still didn't understand what had possessed either himself or Renji but he'd come to terms with it. Then there was the whole mess last night, which could have been chalked up to the same weirdness as the lap thing if not for the touching. Ichigo stared hard at his notebook, pen digging a grove into the soft paper. What the hell could have been so fascinating about a couple of damn tattoos that he couldn't help reaching out to touch them? He'd known that the lack of sleep was starting to affect his judgment, but he hadn't realized it had gotten this bad.

The rest of the day was a blur; teachers droning, people chattering, Rukia lecturing him about both needing to sleep and needing to stay awake. By the time the final class let out, the noises had all faded together and he'd stopped paying attention to any of it. He could hear Rukia speaking as they made their way outside, but he couldn't work up the energy to decipher the sounds. All he could think about was getting home where he could find some peace and quiet. He also needed to find a way to return Renji's communicator without having to answer any awkward questions about how he'd gotten it. This meant that he'd have to seek the other man out personally.

This last problem was made simpler as they stepped through the front doors and found Renji waiting for them, leaning against a wall in his gigai. Ichigo frowned, unsure whether he should feel relieved or uneasy at the sudden appearance.

"What are you doing here, Renji?" Rukia had finally stopped peppering Ichigo with questions long enough to notice the new arrival.

"Nothin' much, just in the area." His eyes left her to drift to Ichigo.

Ichigo stared back incredulously. "Is that my shirt?"

Renji ran a hand across his stomach, smirking. "You guys are always givin' me so much crap about my clothes that I figured I'd try something new."

"That's not new, it's just stolen!" Ichigo stormed, stomping towards the other man. "Who the hell said you could use my clothes?"

"You're the one who started the whole _borrowin__'_ thing so I didn't think you'd mind." Renji commented, shrugging off the wall as Ichigo came within striking distance.

The younger man seemed to stall at that, the communicator burning a guilty hole in his pocket. "Yeah, well…"

"I think it looks good," Renji continued, overruling Ichigo's complaints. "Bit tight, though."

"That's 'cause I'm not a fat ass," the young shinigami shot back, finding his outrage once again.

"Hm, I was thinkin' it's 'cause you're not a real man." Renji mused, tugging at the hem.

Ichigo drew a breath to launch into a new tirade but was cut off when Rukia's hand connected with the back of his head.

"Don't you two have anything better to do than fight all the time?" she stormed, glaring at both of them before rounding on Ichigo. "How can you have so much energy to argue when you couldn't keep your eyes open all day?"

She stood there, tapping her foot impatiently, seeming to expect some sort of answer. Ichigo just stared down at her, the fatigue settling over him once again. Finally, having realized that no reply would be forthcoming, she pivoted on one foot and marched off towards home, grumbling loudly about senseless displays of male aggression.

"I better catch up or she'll come back for me," Ichigo sighed, fishing the communicator out of his pocket and passing it back to Renji. "Sorry if taking it was a problem."

"It's fine, I coulda come and gotten' it if I needed to." Renji fell into step next to him.

"I want my shirt back, by the way," Ichigo muttered, shooting him a look out of the corner of his eye.

"What - now?" The older man raised an eyebrow.

"No, not now, idiot, just sometime. Knowing you, you'll probably try to keep it." He glared at the redhead.

Renji just snorted and rolled his eyes "Like I need a bunch of clothes that don't fit. Your pants come halfway up my shins; I didn't realize you were so short."

"What the fuck, Renji? Stay out of my clothes!" Ichigo rounded on him. "And I'm not short, you're just freakishly tall."

"Don't look that way from here." Renji smirked down at him.

Ichigo scowled, trying to come up with something emotionally devastating to wipe that look off of his face but Renji waved him off.

"I was gonna see if you were up for a little trainin', but if this lame-ass shit's all you can come up with you must really be tired."

"Bastard, I'll show you who's tired." Ichigo was bristling, his reiatsu rising slowly beneath the surface as he glared at the retreating back.

"Maybe another time," Renji called over his shoulder. He was still smirking but this time it didn't reach his eyes.

**(*)**

Ichigo slammed his door shut and threw himself onto his bed. His day had been going steadily downhill since he'd first walked out the door that morning. First there were the endless lectures about school from Rukia, a girl at least four times his age who didn't belong in his class in the first place. Then, when he'd finally escaped _that_ hell hole he'd had to face Renji. Not the normal abrasive, competitive Renji, but a new, seemingly concerned Renji. Having Renji give him that look while making excuses _not_ to fight was ten times more insulting than anything the other man had ever said to him. If that wasn't bad enough he'd gotten into an argument with his father over dinner, which wasn't unusual, but this time he'd lost his temper and cursed at the man in front of his sisters and Rukia. He hated it when that happened because it meant his control was slipping and he couldn't afford that.

He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, trying to will himself to fall asleep, but it was no use. It wasn't even fully dark yet. He sat up irritably and pulled the curtains shut. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine soothing things like the ocean, laying around in the grass, or the way his mother had sung him lullabies when he was a kid. He'd tried this before, of course, and it was always the same. The ocean came to crush him, the grass was stained with the blood of his friends, and his mother was always, _always_ screaming. He screwed his eyes shut against the sounds and images playing in his head. After thirty minutes of this he shot out of bed, swearing viciously as he reached for his shinigami substitute badge. He paused briefly, considering the thing before changing his mind and shoving it into his pocket. Making his way down the stairs he headed for the door, calling over his shoulder to anyone who cared to listen that he was going out.

Urahara's shop was quiet when he arrived but the lights were still on so he pushed the door open. When he didn't encounter anyone up front he ventured further in, headed towards the rooms in the back. Not bothering to knock, he reached forward and slid one of the doors aside, staring blankly into the empty chamber.

"If you're looking for Abarai-kun he's in the basement." Urahara's voice floated to him from the end of the hall.

Ichigo turned and found the man leaning against the wall, studying him from beneath the ever present hat. "Oh, thanks."

He started forward but Urahara caught his arm, bringing him closer for inspection. "You don't look well, Kurosaki-kun."

"Neither do you, Urahara-san." He shrugged out of the gentle grip, moving down the hall towards the basement.

It wasn't hard to find Renji, even in that monstrously huge space, because he had Zabimaru out in his final release. Ichigo just stood there for a few minutes, watching that writhing form coil and strike, the skeletal head popping up now and then to spot a target. He finally shoved his hands into his pockets and began trudging in the direction of the dust cloud that now housed both man and beast.

Renji pulled in his attacks as Ichigo came into view, eyeing him warily over the slowly shifting mass between them. "I ain't gonna fight you, if that's why you're here."

He had that look in his eyes again and Ichigo could feel his temper start to rise. "We'll see about that."

"I mean it, Ichigo," Renji sighed, resealing Zabimaru and heading towards him. "I'm done anyway. Come upstairs, I'll make some tea."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you hit yourself in the head with your own bankai or something?" Ichigo felt the last of his control slipping, but he just couldn't help it. "It's not bad enough that you think I'm too weak to fight; now you're going to make me _tea_!"

"I never said nothin' about being weak; I just don't feel like fightin' right now." Renji moved past him towards the ladder.

Ichigo didn't remember snapping, but one second he was just standing there, gaping like a particularly angry fish, and the next he was flying at Renji. The older shinigami barely had time to turn before he found himself flat on his back, staring up at an equally shocked Ichigo.

"You just attacked me in your human body," Renji mumbled incredulously.

"I don't need to be a shinigami to beat you, asshole." Honestly, Ichigo had thought the other man would block him so he hadn't really considered more than the first attack.

"You gonna win by sittin' on me? Cause it ain't really doin' much." Renji was starting to sound amused again and it made Ichigo crazy.

He dove forward, intent on beating every last shred of humor from that face but Renji was ready for him this time. He found himself sprawling a few feet away, coughing from the impact before he registered the movement. He didn't bother trying to analyze what Renji had just done, launching immediately into a counter attack. The two rolled wildly in the sand for a couple of minutes, Renji trying to pin Ichigo and Ichigo trying to pound Renji's face into the ground. Just when the older man was about to resort to a binding spell a shrill alarm brought them both to a standstill. Removing his hand from Ichigo's neck, Renji dug his communicator out of his pocket and flipped it open.

"What is it?" The younger man demanded, still loosely clutching a handful of red hair.

"Arrancar, 3 of 'em." Renji shook Ichigo off and sat up, snarling. "Shit, one's only a couple blocks away."

He swung to his feet and ran for the ladder, feeling the gentle tug as Ichigo left his body and fell in behind him. They shouted down the hall to Urahara as they passed, never breaking stride, and hit the night air at a run.

**(*)**

It wasn't the Espada, or even a Numero, it was something new. It looked more like a beast than a man, 20 feet tall with a hideous, distorted face poking out from behind the remnant hollow mask. It was fast, insanely fast and it didn't seem locked to one shape; more than once it had spontaneously grown a new limb or two in order to block an attack. Aizen, it seemed, had grown a bit restless and had decided to branch out into new experiments.

Ichigo hit the ground hard with his left shoulder, skidding across the rough pavement until a wall halted his momentum. Cursing, he sprang back to his feet, wiping a trail of blood out of his eyes and rolling his arm to test for damage. He grimaced. He was having trouble keeping up with the creature's movements and Zangetsu was starting to feel unusually heavy even in his much smaller, bankai form. Belatedly he realized that Renji's assessment of his condition may have been accurate, not just insulting. No time to worry about it now, though, because the thing had just smacked Renji out of the sky. Snarling he pushed forward.

"Are you okay?" The redhead called to him, struggling out of the tangled mess of what had once been a bus stop.

"Stop worrying so damn much about me and concentrate on killing that thing," he bit back, lunging between a pair of razor barbed tentacles to swipe at its legs.

The 'thing' just laughed, sliding back out of reach and swinging at him with what now looked like a meat cleaver. It never spoke, just laughed, a high pitched, insane sound that raised the hairs on Ichigo's neck. He wondered if it was even capable of speech. There was a flash as Renji soared overhead, Zabimaru lashing out in a tight arch. He was fighting without the aid of his bankai because with his limit still in place, the monstrous form was just too slow to be effective against the creature's speed. For the hundredth time, Ichigo cursed Soul Society for continuing to reinstate that thing.

The fight wore on, neither side making much progress, until Ichigo began to wonder if killing it was even possible. Then, in a horrifyingly brief instant, all the exhaustion, fatigue, and over exertion caught up with him at the worst moment. He was coming down from a failed attack, Zangetsu poised to deflect the barbed whip that was already descending, when he hit the ground and stumbled. It happened so fast; his feet touched the pavement and his legs simply refused the weight, causing him to drop the point of his blade as he tried to stay upright. He realized his mistake instantly, eyes flickering up to the spikes flying towards his head, but his arm felt like it was moving in slow motion.

Something dark flashed across his vision and he felt a sharp pain as Renji collided with him, dragging him off of his feet. They hit the ground rolling and came to a stop a few feet away, Renji crouched over him, teeth bared, eyes fixed on the monster looming above. Ichigo felt something warm hit his face and realized there was blood flowing freely down the older man's neck. He'd been unable to avoid the full impact when he'd rolled between Ichigo and the attack.

Renji surged to his feet but it was too late, the creature already had the advantage. He barely managed to get Zabimaru up in time to avoid being cut in half by one of those heavily bladed arms, the impact sending him into a wall with enough force bring it down around him. Dazed, he dragged himself out of the debris, spotting Zabimaru a few yards away. Lights danced in front of his eyes and the blood running down his arms made his hands slick as he tried to crawl, reaching for his weapon.

Something struck him in the side and he was flipped onto his back, staring up at the thing looming over him. It laughed again, darker than before, and a barbed spike in its chest shot downward. There was a slight breeze and then Ichigo was there, stalling the attack with nothing more than the point of his sword. His eyes flicked to Renji and the older man shivered at the silver-blue stare, remembering a time he'd encountered it under less than friendly conditions. It was different this time, darker, heavier, and dangerously more powerful. He could feel the rage rolling off of Ichigo as the air churned under the force of his reiatsu. The chilling gaze left him, returning to the creature that was shrieking its fury, hurtling a mass of limbs in their direction.

"Getsuga Tenshou," he murmured, voice cold and detached.

The black energy crackled, surging upward towards the screaming beast, peeling it away until there was nothing left but ash. Ichigo swayed as the last of the energy left him, driving Zangetsu into the ground to hold his weight as that blinding rage slipped away. A powerful reiatsu brushed against his and he spun, the clash of steel ringing out in the night as Zangetsu met Hyourinmaru. Hitsugaya returned Ichigo's stare calmly through the blood matting the left side of his face and both blades fell away. This last burst of adrenaline proved too much for Ichigo and his legs finally gave out completely, his sword clattering to the ground as he swayed. An arm shot out to support him at the last moment and if he'd had the energy left to feel emotions he'd have been surprised that Hitsugaya had bothered to catch him.

**(*)**

Ichigo sat at the edge of Renji's futon, his head in his hands, replaying the events of the night. He'd woken about an hour ago, back in his body with Urahara hovering over him holding a handful of bandages. He'd turned his head and found Renji laying face down across the room, Tessai's glowing hands tracing over three deep gashes in his back. Beside him, Jinta was wringing out a bloody towel in a bowl of water, trying unsuccessfully to look like he wasn't concerned. Ichigo had turned away, guilt burning in his cheeks. He'd stayed there for awhile, wanting to keep an eye on the progress but Urahara had chased him out saying that he should go home and rest. He wanted to do just that but found that he couldn't leave so he'd gone to Renji's room instead.

The others had left shortly after he'd regained consciousness, back to patrolling, filing reports, or just off to their own beds. Rukia had stayed the longest, trying to talk him into returning home with her. She'd been more subdues than usual, her left arm and leg wrapped in bandages from where her own fight had turned ugly. She'd been with Hitsugaya's group which had saved her, though none of them had managed to get away without injury. In the end she'd accepted his need to be there, if not fully understanding the reason, and had left, promising to tell his family that he was fine and just staying at a friend's. He was grateful that she'd let the issue drop for once because he was all out of fight.

Now, alone in the poorly lit room, Ichigo slowly began to tear into himself. In his mind, he once again felt the blood dripping onto his skin and wondered how you find enough words to apologize for nearly getting someone killed with your own stupidity. Renji had been right; he'd pushed himself to the point where he was no good to anyone, a liability that put the people around him in danger. Over and over he ran through the events, each time sinking a little deeper into himself as he realized that he'd not only failed to protect someone, he'd actually been the cause of their injury. He lay back on the futon, hands digging into his burning eyes, trying to push away the darkness in his mind.

Two hours later a freshly bandaged Renji slid the door to him room open, wincing at the pull in his back, and found Ichigo asleep. Closing the door he stared down at the younger man, frowning at the painful emotions playing across the sleeping face. Sighing, he dropped his ruined clothes into a chair along with Zabimaru, running a hand through his shower damp hair. He sat down on the far side of the futon, watching as Ichigo grimaced against some unknown dream, his breathing shallow and erratic.

"You think this is all your fault, don't ya?" he spoke softly to the sleeping form, noticing how Ichigo flinched at the sound.

He reached out and threaded his fingers through the hair at the younger mans temple, thumb stroking the knot drawn up between the delicate orange brows. Slowly, the frown relaxed a bit and the breathing started to even out. Renji ran his hand through the hair, brushing it back away from the other man's face, feeling the tension seep out of the tightly wound body. He stayed there for several long minutes, idly tracing through sleep messed locks, wondering how he'd feel in Ichigo's position.

The protests of his aching back finally penetrated his thoughts and he withdrew his fingers, considering what to do with the boy taking up the majority of his bed. Sighing, he slipped a hand under his shoulder and, ignoring the biting pain, rolled him up onto his side. Bracing him to make sure he didn't roll away, Renji slipped onto the futon behind him, letting Ichigo's weight settle back against him. He pulled a blanket up over the both of them before snaking an arm around the smaller form to keep him in place. The last thing he needed was for Ichigo to start thrashing and ruin all Tessai's hard work. Ichigo seemed to stiffen a bit at the intrusion before relaxing completely into the embrace, shifting back slightly into the warmth of the other body. Renji smirked into the back of his neck regretting, not for the first time, his decision to not to tease the kid about any of this shit. Sometimes he was just too nice for his own good.


	4. Hypocrisy

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Hypocrisy**

The first conscious thought that Ichigo remembered having was the realization that he'd been asleep. Not a light and miserable 10 minute sleep like he was used to experiencing, but a real, refreshingly deep sleep. His whole body felt wonderfully heavy, like he was still skimming the surface of a warm dream just beyond his reach. He didn't want to move; it had been so long since he'd woken up like this that he just wanted to lay there and enjoy it for awhile. He probably would have too, if not for his second conscious thought of the morning, which was that unless he'd somehow grown a third arm during the night, someone was currently holding him around the waist.

He tensed but remained motionless, trying to blink the fog from his brain, searching for some sort of explanation. A quick scan of the room confirmed that he wasn't at home and the walls definitely looked like Urahara's, but for a brief moment he couldn't remember why he would have been there. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing away the last remnants of sleep, searching back through the last few hours. It all came crashing down at once, the fight the previous night, Renji painted with rivulets of his own blood, the endless waiting and thinking. He surmised that he'd have fallen asleep in Renji's room at some point, which gave him a pretty good guess as to who the owner of the arm might be. He winced, praying to any gods that would listen that he would wake up in his own bed momentarily, even as he started to edge away from the heat against his back.

"Stop squirmin'." That all too familiar voice murmured into his hair. "It's too early for squirmin'."

Ichigo froze, though it was more out of mortified shock than an actual compliance with the command. Renji shifted subtly against him, adjusted the hand at his waist, and seemed to fall back asleep. Ichigo held his breath, the silence ringing in his ears, trying to formulate a plan of escape that would also render Renji unable to recall the events of the past twenty-four hours. He lifted the edge of the blanket just enough to peek under, glaring at the arm holding him hostage and noting, with some measure of relief, that at least he was still wearing pants this time. Trying to remain as still as possible he slipped his arm under the covers, running his hand down his own body until his fingers brushed the other man's skin. He froze again, listening for any changes in breathing. Gently he slipped his fingers around the wrist, trying not to squeeze too tightly, and began to slowly edge it away from his body. The arm tensed, resisting his effort, and Renji sighed against the back of his neck.

"I suppose it's too much to ask for just one more hours' sleep?" the voice was rough and tired.

"What the fuck is wrong with your head?" Ichigo whispered harshly, struggling against the arm that refused to let go.

"I'll take that as a yes," Renji muttered to himself, moving away so that he could roll Ichigo onto his back.

"Let go of me! What the hell is the matter with you?" Ichigo glared up at the up him.

"Last thing I need is you thrashin' around and messin' up all Tessai's work." Renji propped his head up on his fist and stared pointedly down at him.

This sobered Ichigo a bit and he stopped fighting against the hand, though the glare remained. "Yeah, well that wouldn't be a problem if you weren't trying to _sleep _with me!"

"It's _my _bed," Renji growled back at him, removing the restraining hand to brush back the lock of hair that kept falling into his face. "You're the one who was sprawled all over it when I got here."

Ichigo sat up, staring at him incredulously. "And this seemed like an appropriate solution to you?"

"Did at the time." Renji glared up at him.

"How the fuck did _this _ever seem like an appropriate solution?" Ichigo waved his hand vaguely between them, his voice rising.

"Well, it didn't involve either having to carry your fuckin' ass anywhere, or me having to sleep on the floor," Renji shot back at him, wincing as he drew himself into a sitting position.

Ichigo flinched as the blanket fell away, revealing an extensive trail of bandages across the tattooed chest. A small patch of crimson staining the pristine white along his right side and Ichigo realized that he must have reopened something during their brief struggle.

"You could have woken me up," he mumbled, dropping his gaze to the floor, the fight draining out of him.

"You looked like ya could use the rest." Renji's sounded tired again.

He hadn't failed to notice either the sudden change of mood or the direction of the previous stare and a brief glance confirmed his suspicion. He kicked himself mentally for sitting up at all. He'd felt the wound tear open when he was holding Ichigo down, but he didn't think it would bleed through that fast.

"I should get going, my family might be worried." The younger man stood, eyes still averted.

"This ain't your fault, ya know." Renji's voice was hard.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ichigo's head snapped up, meeting the rigid gaze.

"This." Renji gestured roughly to the bandages on his body. "None of this is your fault; it's just a hazard that comes with the job."

"I screwed up and you got hurt because of it, how's that not my fault?" Ichigo spat sullenly, looking around for his shirt.

"I ain't your responsibility. If anything, it's my own damn fault for not being strong enough to keep up without releasin' my limit." Renji's voice was rising with frustration.

"That's Soul Society's fault, not yours, and you were doing fine before I got in the way," Ichigo shot back, pulling the shirt roughly over his head.

"The hell I was," Renji shouted, struggling to his feet with a grimace, "We all got fucked up, even Hitsugaya-taichou."

"Yeah, well I don't think falling down and having to be rescued was much of a help." Ichigo tore his eyes away from the growing stain at the other mans side, sliding the door open roughly.

"When the hell did you get this stupid?" Renji shouted at his retreating back but the younger man didn't bother to reply.

**(*)**

Ichigo sat atop a tall apartment building, fingers idly tracing Zangetsu's hilt as he stared out over the lights of the city. He'd been hiding out here for hours. He'd return home that morning to find Rukia waiting for him, full of questions about Renji's condition and their fight with the Arrancar from the night before. He answered her in as few words as possible, aware that to ignore her completely would result in a tirade of abuse that would eventually result in the same answers. He'd omitted the part about his own weakness leading to the worst of Renji's injuries, not wanting to hear her reassurances or see the worry lurking in her eyes. For once she hadn't insisted on school, shooing him into his room and telling him to get some rest. After the third time she came to check on him he just couldn't take it anymore, he'd stuck Kon in his body and told the mod soul to pretend to sleep before escaping out the window. No doubt Rukia hadn't been fooled for long, Kon wasn't terribly reliable, but she'd taken the hint and not come after him.

The sun had set hours ago but he couldn't bring himself to move so he just stayed there, watching over the city, lost in thought. He knew that his family was becoming concerned, between his late night disappearances and his strange shifts in mood. He only hoped that Kon was up to acting normal tonight and could calm some of their fears.

He sighed, his thoughts shifting once again to Renji and the Arrancar. Two seconds later and Renji would have died, two seconds between a mistake that was merely painful and one that was unforgivable. His eyes slipped shut and his grip tightened around Zangetsu. If he was honest with himself, there had been no assurance that he had power left to make a difference when he stepped between Renji's blood-soaked body and the Arrancar. He'd felt like he was watching the whole thing from behind a sheet of glass; nothing had seemed real except for his rage, his fear, and the blood. Two seconds between Renji's death, his own death, the death of that thing, and when it all came down to it he'd acted without any idea which way it would go. How could he have let himself slip so far?

He hung his head, feeling the muscles of his neck protest, as he tried to figure Renji out. He had every right to be furious right now but instead of taking out his frustrations on Ichigo he'd gone out of his way to be accommodating, even going so far as to share his bed so that they could both get some rest. Ichigo felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he thought about that morning. He certainly didn't understand Renji's compulsion to do some of the things he did, but there was no denying that they seemed to be done out of concern for his health. He still felt the sting of insult at having a rival looking out for him. Still, Renji had been right about him needing to sleep; he'd even been right in refusing to fight him, as infuriating as it had been.

"Figured you'd be mopin' somewhere like this," Renji spoke down at the top of the orange head, smirking when the younger man jumped.

"What the hell are you doing here, Renji?" Ichigo's voice was harder than he intended, irritated at having been caught by surprise. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Got bored." Renji ignored the tone as he dropped carefully down next to him.

"You shouldn't be here." Ichigo refused to look at him, glaring out across the city.

"Oh, and why's that?" He stared a hole through the side of the younger man's head.

"I just think it's better if I patrol by myself from now on." Ichigo muttered, sullen and stubborn.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Renji questioned, turning to face him completely.

Ichigo remained silent, still refusing to meet his gaze. Renji stared at him incredulously for a few minutes, his temper simmering just below the surface. "You're a real asshole, you know that Ichigo? You think you're better than everyone, or somethin'."

That got the Ichigo's attention. He rounded on the redhead. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"All this feelin' sorry for yourself shit, like you're not allowed to do anything wrong." Renji's voice was rising.

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I made a mistake that almost got you killed," Ichigo shot back, his own temper burning to life.

"So what?" The older man snapped at him. "We've all made mistakes. I've made a bunch, including letting Aizen get to Rukia, steal the Hougyoku and start all the shit we're in now. All you did was slip and no one even died, but now you're sittin' up here actin' like it's the end of the world."

"It doesn't matter if anyone died or not, I'm supposed to protect people, not be an extra burden on them," Ichigo yelled back at him, eyes flashing dangerously.

"What the fuck, Ichigo, who asked you to save everyone?" Renji demanded, slamming a hand against the concrete in frustration. "We're all here for the same reason, no one expects you to do it all."

"What am I supposed to do, just keep on going like nothing happened?" Ichigo was on his feet now.

"That's exactly what you should be doin'," Renji raged, glaring at the agitated figure, "Ya learn from what ya did wrong and then ya move on. We're shinigami, hollows want to kill us, that's just part of the job. You sittin' around bitchin' and whinin' about this shit ain't helpin' no one."

Ichigo had stopped his angry pacing, looking out over the city once again, fists clenched so tight that he was trembling. He looked like he was going to say something but changed him mind, jaw muscles jumping as he shut his mouth so hard that Renji could hear his teeth grinding.

The older man sighed in irritation, "Look, ya ain't sleepin', and that's a problem. You need to let go of some of this shit you're carryin' around."

"Well thanks for clearing that up." Ichigo's voice was hard and bitter. "It's not like I've tried something as simple as sleeping or anything."

Renji winced a little at the tone, "All I'm sayin' is…"

"No, you're right," Ichigo cut him off. "I should just go get some rest."

He jumped over the side of the building, not bothering to wait for a reply. Renji watched him go, resisting the urge to follow him and beat some sense into that thick skull. Lying back against the cool concrete he stared up at the stars, the last of his temper fading away into nothing. He'd never been very good at being sympathetic and something about Ichigo always seemed to push him over the edge. He wondered what Rukia would have done in the same situation. She would have probably just smacked him with something until he agreed to do whatever she said. Renji couldn't help but smirk at the picture it presented, but his amusement slowly fled as he realized that she'd probably beat the shit out of him if she could see the way he'd just handled things.

**(*)**

Sweat poured off of Ichigo as he powered through another set of pushups, his muscles screaming in protest. He ignored the pain, driving forward, hoping that he could push his body to a point where it would simply collapse. He'd been doing this for two hours, alternating between sit-ups and pushups, and though his body was begging for mercy his mind just refused to let go. He had actually managed to fall asleep for an hour or so tonight, before the twisted shrieking dreams drove him from his bed. One more set of pushups and he'd give it another try.

It had been two days since his fight with Renji on the roof; two days and three hours of sleep. He hadn't seen the other man during that time, but that wasn't surprising seeing as he'd been avoiding him. It wasn't that he was mad, he'd let go of the anger almost immediately, it was that he just couldn't face letting the other man see him like this anymore.

He rolled to his feet, arms trembling slightly in the aftermath of their abuse. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of sweat, yanking the window open to let the night air into the stuffy confines of the room before heading for the shower. He braced his forearms against the tile, letting the hot water sooth his tired muscles as he breathed in the gently curling steam. For a long time he just stayed like that, eyes shut, water streaming down his aching body, mind blissfully blank. His thoughts started to spin back to life as the water temperature dropped and he finally shut off the tap, climbing reluctantly out into the real world. He pulled on a pair of boxers and made his way back to his room, kicking the door shut behind him as he continued to towel his hair dry.

"I was startin' to wonder if you'd drowned in there." A voice drifted to him from the window and Ichigo yelped as he stubbed his toe against the desk.

He whirled around, ripping the towel off of his head and found Renji sitting on his windowsill as if it were the most natural thing in the world, feet dangling into the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he muttered, dropping down to inspect the damage to his toe, heart still racing.

"Just happened to be in the area, thought I might drop in and see what you're up to." He slid quietly into the room.

"Okay." Ichigo looked skeptical but let it slide, tossing the damp towel onto his desk and sinking onto the edge of the bed. "Well I'm not doing anything, so I guess I'm not going to be very entertaining."

"That's alright; it's pretty boring out there tonight." Renji pulled a chair around and dropped into it, propping one foot up on the bed next to Ichigo.

"So how have you been?" Renji's asked politely, and Ichigo narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Whatever you're up to, take it somewhere else," the younger man stated bluntly, kicking the foot off his bed so that he could lie down.

"I'm just makin' polite conversation, dipshit," Renji huffed, propping his foot back up next to Ichigo's leg.

The younger man crossed his arms behind his head and raised an eyebrow. "Doing as good a job as ever, I see."

Renji flushed slightly but bit his tongue against a retort, "Just thought that maybe you could use some company."

"You going to yell at me some more about shit I already know?" Ichigo rolled his head back staring at the ceiling.

Renji didn't reply and the silence stretched between them. Ichigo finally dragged his gaze back around and found the other man lost in thought. As if feeling the weight of the stare Renji blinked, shaking his head slightly as he focused on the younger man.

"I've been thinkin' about what I said the other day," he started, his tone more serious than either was accustomed to hearing. "Sometimes I forget how young you are. I remember when I was your age I thought I could save the world, too, and I wouldn't have let anybody tell me different."

Ichigo rolled onto his side, propping his head up on one hand, but remained silent.

"Difference between you and me is that _I've_ actually had to learn from my failures and accept that I can't do everything alone. You, on the other hand, always seem to find a way, usually through some sort of shit-dumb luck, to do whatever it is that you've got stuck in your damn head."

Ichigo smirked, unable to find the energy to be insulted, and Renji brought up a hand to rub at his eyes. He looked tired.

"I remember being so pissed when you showed up in Seireitei. It wasn't just 'cause I blamed you for Rukia's situation, it was also 'cause you'd come to save her and that was supposed to be my job. Kept failin' at it though, not that it stopped me from tryin'. I remember laying there in a puddle of my own blood after Kuchiki- taichou kicked my ass and still tryin' to get up. Kuchiki- taichou put a sword through my hand and I didn't even have the strength to pull it out but I still tried to get back up." He frowned down at the hand, tracing the barely visible scar that still lingered. "Guess I shouldn't be bitchin' at you about lettin' go of stuff when I have the same problem. Bit too hypocritical for me."

"When's that ever stopped you from doing anything?" Ichigo muttered without malice.

"Asshole," Renji smirked.

Silence fell between them once again, but without the tension from before. After a few moments Renji stirred, bringing a hand up to run through his hair, dragging the tie loose and spilling a waterfall of red around his face. He ran his fingers through the locks a few times, smoothing them into place before placing the end of the tie in his mouth. He reached up with both hands to separate the mass into three parts and Ichigo watched curiously as long fingers made short work of a braid with quick, practiced motions.

"What are you doing?" he asked finally, watching the older man tie off the end securely.

"It gets all over the place if I leave it down while I sleep," he explained, pulling his foot off the bed and rising from the chair.

"Oh." Ichigo nodded at the explanation before something in his brain clicked and his eyes shot back to the other man. "Wait, what do you mean? You're not sleeping here!"

Renji just to ignore him, fingers working the knot in his sash. Ichigo looked on in horror for a moment, as though he couldn't believe this was happening to him but unable to find the words to stop it. The words finally came as the sash fell away and Renji started to peel back the layers of clothing.

"Why aren't you listening to me? I said you can't sleep here." He sat up in bed, scowling menacingly, hands fisted in his blanket.

"You look like you're still having trouble sleeping, and I _know_ I'm still having trouble sleeping." Renji draped his clothing over the back of the recently vacated chair.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Ichigo snapped, eyeing him as if he were a particularly unstable mental patient.

"Last two good nights of sleep I've had were when you were there," Renji explained, flipping off the light and plunging the room into an eerie half darkness.

"So what? This isn't a reasonable solution!" Ichigo's voice had risen an octave. The bandages were gone now and in the dim light the tattoos painting the other man's body stood out in sharp relief, swaying slightly as he moved forward.

"Sure it is," Renji murmured, stopping at the edge of the bed and smirking down at the younger man, "and it's a pretty easy one at that. I seem to sleep better when you're here, and you seem to sleep better when I'm here. It's mutually beneficial."

"Where the hell do you get this logic?" Ichigo looked like someone who had opened a door and come face to face with a tiger, eyes wide and knuckles white.

"You're doin' that girly thing again," Renji pointed out helpfully, using one hand to push him back onto the bed.

Ichigo felt the words fail him again as he stared in disbelief at the man leaning over him. He knew he should be struggling but the shock of the whole thing seemed to have rendered him unable to move.

"Look, I even remembered to keep my pants on." He motioned to his hakama, sounding suspiciously like he was trying to suppress a laugh.

"You've lost your mind," Ichigo muttered as he felt the other man's weight pass over him and settle on the other side of the bed.

Renji chuckled lightly, shifting around a bit to get more comfortable. Ichigo huffed in defeat, knowing that there was no way to get the other man out of the bed without a fight and too tired to attempt it. He rolled onto his side, facing away from the redhead and tried to put some distance between them. Neither said a word, Ichigo because he was far too uncomfortable and Renji because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to contain his amusement. The older man shifted again and Ichigo was about to demand he quit moving when he felt a hand settle on his hip. He stopped breathing, eyes wide with shock. Renji took the opportunity to slip the arm around his waist, drawing him backwards until the younger man was pressed against his chest.

"Oh, hell no!" Ichigo spluttered, sitting up to glare at him. "No fucking way, Renji."

"Didn't hear you complainin' the last time." His grin flashed in the darkness and Ichigo's scowl deepened.

"You keep your hands to yourself," Ichigo demanded, flopping back onto the mattress and crossing his arms over his chest.

Renji didn't reply, but a tremor running through his shoulders had Ichigo very suspicious that he was being laughed at. The older man rolled over to face the wall, biting his lip hard to keep himself in check. Ichigo was just such an easy target that sometimes he couldn't help himself. Still, he'd promised himself not to tease him too much about whatever this was and he could tell that the kid was about to snap so he left it alone. They both needed to rest and he didn't want to risk finding his ass on the floor for the sake of his own amusement. There was always tomorrow, after all. Daylight was better for watching someone blush anyway.


	5. Acquiesce

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Acquiesce**

Ichigo blinked slowly into awareness as the first threads of dawn were just beginning to stain the outside world in hues of pink and gold. His body tried valiantly to pull him back under the spell of sleep, but he refused it, staring out across the expanse of skin before him. The window was still open, bringing a chill to the room, and sometime during the night his disobedient body had ignored his order to remain still and had rolled to face the closest source of heat. He was currently laying with his head pillowed against Renji's chest, one tattooed arm snaked beneath his neck to hang over the edge of the bed. He also seemed to have thrown a leg over the over the other mans thigh, tangling them together in a way that he'd probably be horrified about if his thoughts weren't so warm and languid.

The touch of dawn had chased away the harshest shadows, leaving everything softer and more hospitable. Ichigo just lay there, drifting between sleep and awake, watching the rise and fall of the chest beneath his head. Of its own accord, his hand rose from Renji's waist to trace the pattern of the tattoo traveling out in front of his eyes. The skin was warm beneath his fingers and softer than he would have thought. It was soothing, and a part of him wanted to let eyes slip closed, to return to the dream still singing its siren song, but he just couldn't stop tracing those coal dark lines. It was as if they held the answer to some long forgotten question if only he could decipher their meaning. He'd just finished mapping the first of these strange hieroglyphs and was dipping lower to continue his exploration when a hand covered his, stilling his movements.

"I already told ya that tickles." Renji pulled the offending hand further up his chest, sounding vaguely amused.

Ichigo blinked at the contact, the spell that held him captive falling away into a million pieces. He suddenly remembered very clearly that he wasn't supposed to be laying half on top of Renji and running his fingers over his skin.

"I…uh…" His mind was screaming at him not to apologize because that would mean admitting to what he'd been doing. His head slowly crept up. "How long have you been awake?

"Long enough," Renji smirked at him evilly. "You got a real thing for tattoos, don'tcha?"

"What? No!" Ichigo wrenched his hand from the redhead's grasp and sprang wildly back.

Unfortunately, with two people occupying an already small bed there was little room for escape and all he really managed was to tangle himself in the sheets and plunge over the side, knocking the air out of his lungs. He lay there for a minute, a bit stunned from the impact, trying to breathe normally. There was a rustling from above and Renji's face appeared over the side of the bed, eying him quizzically.

"Ya ain't got a lot of experience sleepin' with someone, do ya?" he inquired conversationally, crossing his arms in front of him and resting his chin on them.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Ichigo yelped. He could feel this face starting to burn as he struggled with the sheets wrapped around his legs.

"I don't mean like that, idiot." Renji seemed to find the situation highly entertaining, "I just mean ya get real jumpy when ya wake up and there's someone else there."

"You make it sound weird that I'm _not_ used to finding some guy sleeping next to me." He finally managed to free himself from the cotton death grip and leapt to his feet.

Renji just shrugged a little. "Don't suppose you'd have a reason to, things are pretty good here."

Ichigo, who had been about to make a fast break for the door, paused, curious in spite of himself. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Hm?" Renji seemed to have been drifting off into thought. "Oh, nothin' really, just thinkin' about when I was a kid. Things were a lot different for us."

"Different how?" He'd always been a bit curious about how the other shinigami and Rukia had grown up. They didn't talk about it all that much and he'd never really felt comfortable asking.

"Different in just about any way you can think of. I don't know how much you know about Soul Society, but the 78th district of Rukongai ain't exactly the safest place to live even if you've got someone lookin' after you; which we didn't." Renji rolled onto his side, looking past Ichigo at some far off spot in his memory. "We were just a bunch of kids who survived by stealin' shit. We all slept together at night cause it wasn't safe to be alone, and when it got cold it wasn't like we had anywhere to go so we just got a bit closer."

"Sounds messed up," Ichigo remarked.

The older mad just shrugged it off. "It wasn't all bad, we had fun sometimes."

"So all this weird sleeping stuff is just normal to you?" Ichigo eyed him dubiously.

"I didn't say that," Renji smirked at him. "Honestly, I haven't really done anythin' like this since before I started at the academy."

"So why now? Why are you doing this to me…with me…I mean…" he was going for outrage but lost his momentum, flushing slightly.

"Who knows." Renji didn't look particularly perturbed by the situation. "We all gotta sleep and this seems to work."

"So that's it? You're just going to keep coming here because you're having some damn childhood relapse?" Ichigo felt like the walls were starting to close in. "Don't I get any say in this?"

"No, cause you're bein' a dumb shit about it," the older man stated matter-of-factly.

"You can't just force your way into bed with me," Ichigo shot at him, wincing as he processed his own words.

Renji looked like he was going to laugh but managed to lock down his expression. "You really don't put up much of a fight, you know."

"Shut up! I don't care what you say, this isn't normal and I'm not doing it." He didn't realize that he'd been moving until his back came up against the door. He reached for the knob, wanting to be anywhere but here when Renji's voice stilled him again.

"I didn't say it was normal, I just said it worked." He sat up, pushing some hair back out of his face and leveling the younger man with a stare. "And you're a hell of a lot touchier than anyone I grew up with so it ain't exactly normal for me either. "

"I am not touchy," Ichigo declared defensively, his voice higher than he remembered it.

"Don't worry about it, I blame the tattoos. Didn't have them when I was a kid, after all." Renji was grinning now and Ichigo scowled darkly, having finally caught onto the fact that he was messing with him for his own amusement.

"I fucking hate you," Ichigo muttered, wrenching the door open. "You better stay the hell out of my closet while I'm in the shower."

**(*)**

School was hell; there was just no other word to describe it. He couldn't seem to concentrate today, which wasn't unusual because he was always occupied with much larger concerns, but this time the teachers seemed to notice. He'd already been called on three times to answer questions that he hadn't even heard being asked. As if that weren't enough, his math teacher had called him aside as they were letting out for lunch to ask if he was feeling alright. He'd explained that everything was fine but she had insisted that he see the nurse anyway because he'd been looking pale lately. He'd complied, but only because he could tell she wasn't going to leave it alone. He was currently doodling a decent representation of Zangetsu on a blank page of notebook paper and watching the clock out of the corner of his eye. Only one hour left, he could survive one more hour.

Rukia had come to him that morning and informed him that she and Inoue would be returning to Soul Society later that day. Apparently she'd gotten in into her head to train the other girl and thought that Sereitei would be a better place for that. He still wasn't sure what he thought about the whole training thing, seeing as Rukia had been pretty vague about it, but he had gone along with it. Rukia had actually seemed surprised that he didn't argue but the truth was that he was a bit relieved. With Rukia and Inoue in Sereitei they would be under constant protection, which meant that there were two less people he had to worry about.

Inoue seemed both subdued and excited in a way that only she could really pull off. He'd heard her telling her friends that she was going to be out of town for awhile taking care of a sick relative, and he'd noticed there was a slight tremor in her voice. She kept casting furtive glances in his direction, like she wanted to say something but always seemed to change her mind. He had wished her good luck and she had blushed, mumbling a thank you and then hurrying off to her next class. He mentally shrugged; he'd never really understood what made Inoue tick.

"Hey Ichigo, have you seen Renji today?" Rukia whispered across the aisle, jerking him from his thoughts and causing him to drop his pen.

"When the hell would I have seen Renji?" He scowled, bending down to look for the lost utensil.

"I thought I felt a trace of his reitsu when I got up this morning, I was just wondering if he'd stopped by." She was frowning a bit.

"I don't know where Renji is," he hissed at her, dodging the question and wondering why the room was starting to feel hot. Rukia was definitely frowning at him now but he ignored her, turning back to face the teacher.

He fell into a silent tirade, cursing shinigami, their damn reiatsu sensing abilities and their damn warped senses of humor. He was fairly certain that Renji had been messing with him for the sake of messing with him earlier, but it didn't change the fact that he'd been right about some things. Ichigo had been wracking his brain for most of the day to come up with an excuse for his behavior but so far he'd come up with nothing. Granted he'd still been half asleep, but he was pretty sure that wasn't a good enough reason to be running his fingers across Renji's chest and musing about its texture. No, scratch that, he was _definitely_ sure it wasn't a good enough reason. Damn tattoos. He wouldn't have been surprised to learn that they were some sort of demon magic. That would certainly explain some things.

Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache building. He recognized that the chances of Renji's tattoos possessing some sort of hand controlling magic were about the same as Aizen showing up tomorrow dressed in bows with big apology tears rolling down his cheeks. This was bad. He wasn't exactly clear where the line was, since he wasn't really sure what the hell was going on, but curling around Renji and _petting_ him was certainly on the wrong side of it. His head hit his desk with a dull thud. He didn't want to think about it anymore but he couldn't seem to stop.

He was more than a little afraid that Renji was going to be waiting for them again, but when they finally made their way out of the building he was nowhere in sight. Ichigo let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding, gaining him a strange look from Rukia, and turned in the direction of his house.

"Well isn't this a surprise." Ichigo twitched as a familiar green clad figure seemed to materialize next to him, toying idly with a fan. "Imagine meeting you here, Kurosaki-kun."

"What do you want, Urahara-san?" Ichigo huffed, not in the mood for theatrics.

"Someone's a bit grumpy today," he mused lightly, pulling his hat a bit lower over his eyes. "Did you have trouble sleeping last night?"

Ichigo's head snapped around and he met the pale gaze searchingly. He could never tell what the other man was thinking. "I slept fine, what do you want?"

"My, my, you _are_ in a mood. I was just going to ask if you had some free time. I needed to run a few more tests." There was a strange calculating look in his eyes.

Ichigo just stared at him for a minute before sighing, "Fine, I'm not doing anything now I guess. Just let me go change."

"Excellent, I'll see you in a little while." He turned and disappeared into the crowd.

True to his word he was only home long enough change out of his uniform before he was back out the door. Rukia had offered to accompany him but he'd turned her down, knowing she had preparations to make for her upcoming trip. It didn't take long to reach Urahara's shop and he wasn't really surprised to see Renji outside sweeping. He seemed to have taken up chores as a form of housing compensation. He also wasn't surprised, though that didn't stop him from being irritated, to find the other man was wearing one of his shirts again.

"I told you to stay out of my closet," he muttered sullenly as Renji turned to face him.

"You said that this mornin'. I took this yesterday," he replied, though in a tone that clearly stated that it wouldn't have mattered.

"Figures." Ichigo brushed past him.

"Workin' with Urahara on somethin'?" Renji followed him inside, leaning the broom against the wall.

"Yeah." He looked around but didn't see the man in question anywhere.

"Need any help?" Renji stepped around him, motioning the younger man to follow.

"No." It came out a bit sharper than he'd intended, but he definitely didn't want Renji there for whatever Urahara had planned.

The redhead paused, looking back at him with a frown. "Does this have something to do with your _inner hollow_, or whatever it is that Rukia keeps callin' it?"

Ichigo blanched. He really needed to get Rukia some books on subtlety. "Something like that."

"Don't suppose you wanna explain what that means?" It wasn't really a question.

"Not really," he admitted and was surprised when Renji let it drop.

The older man pointed to the basement door, indicating that Urahara was waiting there, before heading back to the front of the store. Ichigo figured that Urahara must have said something to him before he showed up to keep the redhead from arguing. He pushed it out of his mind and dropped over the edge onto the ladder.

"Good to see you've made it," Urahara said easily, the moment Ichigo's feet were on the ground. He punctuated his pleasantries with a sharp jab to Ichigo's face with his cane, knocking him out of his body.

"You know, you could give me a bit of warning," Ichigo shouted, staggering backwards.

"Hmmm." The former captain had already turned away, trusting Ichigo to follow.

"What are we doing, anyway?" He didn't bother moving his body, just picked up his pace to catch the man.

"Do you know what a Negacion field is?" Urahara eyed him curiously.

It did sound familiar, like something someone had mentioned before. He tried to sort back through his memories, conscious of the pale eyes studying him, but he just couldn't grasp it. "What is it?"

"I'm not surprised you don't recall the name, you were a bit preoccupied at the time. A Negacion field is an ability of the Menos which they use when rescuing their own." Urahara stopped at a small table, digging absently through a box.

"You mean that light that Aizen used to escape Soul Society." Ichigo finally remembered where he'd heard the term.

"Exactly." The older man was placing an assortment of oddities on the table, pausing occasionally to switch their order as if they made some sense to him.

"So what does that have to do with me?" Ichigo asked, eyeing the growing pile suspiciously.

"Well you see, I have reason to believe that Aizen might be working on a device to simulate a small scale version of that field." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, staring at an ominous looking tube as though he couldn't remember why he'd brought it. "Originally the field was meant for protection, shielding whatever was inside of it in an alternate dimension. With a bit of modification, however, it could be used as a weapon, trapping someone or something in the other dimension."

"How do you know what Aizen's working on?" Ichigo's eyes narrowed.

"Well I don't know for sure, it's just a guess really." Urahara flashed him a brief glance, looking a bit sheepish. "You see, I was working on something similar during my time in the 12th division and it seems Aizen spent some time browsing through my notes."

"What's with you and making dangerous shit?" Ichigo exclaimed, approaching the table.

"I wouldn't really call it dangerous. As far as I could tell, it was rather ineffective against shinigami. I suspect that Aizen intends to use the device to keep his own people in line." Urahara was back to examining the tube.

"So it could be a weapon against the Espada?" Ichigo was suddenly warming to the idea.

"Probably not the Espada, they're much stronger than I had anticipated, but it should be effective against the other Arrancar," Urahara corrected absently, handing him the tube and reaching for a small sphere.

"Well, we could use all the help we can get. What do you need me to do?" he asked.

Urahara fidgeted nervously, watching him out of the corner of his eye. "Well, I need to run some tests so that I can refine the process."

"You want me to be some sort of guinea pig for one of your crazy inventions?" Ichigo yelped, jumping away from the table as if it had bit him. "No way! Get someone else."

"I can't do that Kurosaki-san, I already told you it doesn't work well on shinigami." Urahara turned to face him completely and Ichigo's eyes narrowed in warning. "You're the only hollow I know."

"I am _not_ a hollow!" Ichigo snarled, tension radiating from him like a physical force. He turned to leave but a hand caught his arm.

"I know you're not technically a hollow, but neither are the Arrancar. Even though you're almost complete opposites in regards to how you came to be there are still similarities in your powers." Urahara's eyes were searching his face, serious and tired. Ichigo continued to fume but made no move to leave again.

"So you want to try to trap me in that thing?" he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"It's the only way to make sure it works," Urahara explained.

"What do I have to do?" Ichigo bit out.

"You just have to stand there and then try to break free once you're trapped. I'll monitor the process and make adjustments." Urahara released him and returned to the table. "Oh, and you'll have to put on your mask," he added, his shoulders tensing slightly.

"I can't." Ichigo's voice was hard. "I'll show up on the communicators as a hollow or something."

"I've added some shielding to the room; it should prevent that from happening." Urahara was back, slipping something around Ichigo's neck. It looked like a little metal cube etched with strange runes.

"I can only hold my mask for 11 seconds." Ichigo frowned at the thing and then at the man in front of him. "I already told you that."

"I know. You'll just have to keep calling it out." Urahara moved away, retrieving a couple more things and then turning to face him. "Are you ready?"

"No." Ichigo glared at him. "How do I know that I'm not going to end up stuck somewhere or blown up?"

"Honestly, you have to learn to trust," Urahara admonished with a dazzling smile, though his eyes remained serious. They both recognized that there were no guarantees but there were also no other options.

"Fine, let's just get this over with." He gritted his teeth, dropping the cube back against his chest.

"Mask on, please." Urahara twisted the thing in his hand and it started to glow.

Ichigo hesitated only briefly before bringing his hand up and drawing it across his face, feeling the mask form beneath it. He saw Urahara's eyes widen in shock before he quickly schooled his features. They stared at each other for a second, some unknown understanding passing between them and then Urahara gave a short nod and twisted the thing again. Ichigo's world exploded.

**(*)**

The sky seemed to spin lazily as Ichigo lay panting on the sand, pain creeping through his veins to settle as a dull ache deep in his bones. Somewhere to his left he could hear movement, a soft clicking and the scratch of a pencil. Urahara was busily updating his notes. Ichigo didn't bother to turn his head, they'd been at this for hours and he'd learned to take any opportunity to rest that was given.

Each time he managed to free himself from the effects of the Negacion field Urahara would record some data, make some adjustments and they would start over again. The first time he'd managed to free himself after barely 10 minutes of struggle, but now they were up to a solid hour. It was getting harder to measure their success in the last couple of rounds, though, because he was starting to have trouble holding his mask. The effort required to escape the void dimension was greater than he'd expected and it was wearing on him.

A tremor of pain wracked his body and he coughed violently, grimacing at the copper taste that filled his mouth. He turned his head and spit onto the sand, watching the crimson stain sink into the ground. He wondered idly when coughing up his own blood had stopped being cause for real concern.

Wincing, he pushed himself into a sitting position, wiping at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve as Urahara approached. The older man tossed him a bottle of water which he gladly accepted.

"Again?" he asked, rinsing the blood out of his mouth and climbing to his feet.

"No, it's late and your mask is getting too unstable." He pulled the cube from around Ichigo's neck and stared at it. "Besides, I think I've reached the limit where small adjustments are concerned. I need to make some more detailed modifications."

"Tomorrow?" Ichigo was still panting.

"Or the next day, I'll have to see about the modifications." Urahara dropped the cube into his pocket and studied the younger man. "You should get some rest; these exertions will have really taxed your abilities."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ichigo huffed, all too familiar with the sleep lecture at this point.

"Staring at your ceiling isn't what I would call resting," Urahara continued blithely, packing things back into the box. "These experiments are going to take a little more out of you each time. It's important that you do whatever it takes to get adequate sleep."

Something in Urahara's tone caught Ichigo's full attention and his eyes narrowed. The older man flashed him one of the nonsensical, meaningless smiles that he was so fond of, but Ichigo still had a feeling that he knew more than he was letting on. He felt irritation warring with embarrassment but managed a sharp nod, indicating that he would try.

"Well I suppose I'll be off to bed." Urahara scooped the box up and turned towards the ladder, "I'll let you know about the tests tomorrow, Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo ran his hands roughly through his hair, staring into the now empty room. He could already feel the pressures and concerns starting to spin in his head now that he was no longer caught up in an immediate battle. His struggles with the Negacion field had worn him out, but not to the point of exhaustion, not enough to force him to sleep. He swore violently, listening to the echo return his sentiment as he stalked away to retrieve his body.

**(*)**

Ichigo pressed his forehead against the door, squeezing his eyes shut and wondering for the hundredth time what the hell he was doing here. It was a ridiculous question, of course, because he knew _exactly_ what he was doing; it was just that he was having a hard time believing it. Finally, after approximately five years had passed in about 11 seconds he gave up his mental battle and slid the door back. The room was dark but the light from the hall was enough to illuminate the lone figure asleep on the futon. He nearly bolted again but managed to get a hold of himself. He, Kurosaki Ichigo, battler of Arrancar, bane of the Espada, was certainly not going to give in to fear over one unarmed, sleeping shinigami. If he was asleep, that is. Ichigo eyed him warily as he stepped into the room and slid the door closed.

He just stood there for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust, listening to the steady breathing of the other man. When he determined that he could see well enough to not trip over anything he stepped forward, skirting the futon and making his way to the table in the corner. Biting back another string of curses he pulled his shirt over his head and folded it carelessly, tossing it onto the glossy wood. He reached for the button on his pants but stilled, glaring at the motionless figure on the ground, unable to determine his level of dress from the outlines in the blanket. He left the pants on.

"You better not sleep naked," he hissed accusingly, scowling at the prone and motionless shinigami.

He padded on bare feet back to the futon, staring down at its occupant, unsure of how to proceed. Renji was lying on his back, one arm flung up over his head, hair escaping the messy braid to fan across his pillow. Ichigo was hesitant to touch the man for fear of waking him, but couldn't think of any other feasible way to move him, short of finding something to poke him with. He dropped to his knees slowly, biting his lip in concentration and looking for the best leverage point. He'd barely settled on the floor, though, when Renji stirred, shifting onto his side and scooting backwards. His eyes were open and fixed on Ichigo as he lifted the blanket in a wordless invitation.

"Why the fuck are you always awake?" Ichigo demanded, eyes narrowed in frustration.

"Ya ain't exactly quiet." He didn't sound like he'd been asleep in the first place. "Ya getting' in or not?"

"No way," Ichigo balked at him. "I'm not letting you _spoon_ me."

"Not like there's a whole lotta room on a futon," he pointed out.

"Well face the other direction then," Ichigo ordered.

"Even in the braid my hair gets in the way," Renji explained patiently, the corners of his mouth twitching suspiciously. "Don't really want ya sleepin' on it."

They just stared at each other for a long moment, Renji looking vaguely amused and Ichigo looking mutinous. Renji flicked the wrist still holding the blanket as if to remind Ichigo of the offer, one eyebrow drifting upwards.

"Damnit!" Ichigo scowled, slipping in under the blanket and rolling to face the wall. "Not a fucking word."

Renji ignored him, adjusting the blanket around them and settling back down into the futon. Ichigo shoved his arm under his head and continued to scowl at the wall, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Still, as his heart rate began to even out he felt that welcome sense of tiredness start to creep through his veins. The scowl had almost completely dropped away when Renji rolled forward and draped an arm around his waist.

"What the hell did I say about keeping your hands to yourself?" Ichigo growled, tugging at the arm.

"You squirm around a lot and there's less room than in your bed." Renji's breath was warm on his neck.

"I do not," he ground out, the familiar sense of surreal outrage setting in.

"The fuck you don't." Renji refused to release his grip. "How the hell do you think you ended up like you were this mornin'?"

Ichigo continued to struggle for a few more seconds but it was only halfhearted, he knew this was another battle he was destined to lose. "In case you're wondering, this is why I hate you," he grumbled, giving up completely.

"Just go to sleep, Ichigo." He could hear the smirk in Renji's voice.

The arm holding him shifted, settling more comfortable around his waist, hand brushing lightly against his stomach. Renji appeared prone to idle movement because after about half a minute he began tracing slow patterns against Ichigo's bare skin with his thumb. A wave of chills broke out across the flesh, sending a shiver up his spine.

"Quit fucking petting me, Renji," he gritted out through clenched teeth, clamping down on another shiver.

"Quit complaining," Renji whispered back, though his hand stilled.

Neither one spoke again, and after a few minutes Ichigo felt the breath stirring his hair start to slow. His own eyes felt gritty and the effort to keep them open was just too great. He still wasn't entirely comfortable with the arm draped over him, but the more tired he got the less he really cared. He sighed, feeling the last of the tension leave his body. He had a bad feeling that if he put too much thought into this whole situation he wasn't going to like what he came up with, so he decided to just not think about it. Renji was right, they needed to sleep and this worked. For now that was enough of an explanation, he could deal with the thinking part later.


	6. Reflection

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Reflection**

To say that Ichigo was used to waking up next to Renji would have been a gross exaggeration. He was, however, slightly less horrified than he'd been previously when the first thing he saw upon waking was a mass of red hair. He sighed, stirring the crimson strands against his nose, twitching when they tickled his face. He couldn't begin to imagine how they'd accomplished it, but somehow during the night they'd switched positions on the narrow futon. He was currently pressed along Renji's back, forehead resting against a messy braid, and one arm draped casually around his waist. He wondered if the other man was awake.

He pushed himself up on one arm to get a better look, his back popping in protest, and found Renji's eyes closed. That didn't prove anything, but it was a good start. He slipped his arm from around Renji slowly, drawing it back towards the safety of his own body. He figured that if he could have one morning where he wasn't caught in an embarrassing or compromising position he would consider it a success. If he was really careful, he might even be able to escape the room and avoid conversation entirely.

It seemed like a good plan, and it might have even been successful, but for the barest of chances. He was almost completely clear when the tips of his fingers grazed the skin just below Renji's ribs and he heard his breath hitch. He stilled instantly, eyes snapping back to the other man's face. Renji had the slightest hint of a frown, but his eyes were still closed and Ichigo was beginning to think that he might actually be asleep for once. As he continued to watch, the tension in the brows relaxed and the breathing returned to normal. He looked so peaceful in sleep, it was like watching a whole different person, and Ichigo couldn't help but stare at him for a minute.

He hesitated, knowing he was moments from freedom, biting his lip in thought. He didn't remember making a conscious decision, but he must have because one moment he was telling himself to go and the next his fingers were slipping back over that same patch of skin. The breath shuddered, lips parting slightly, and Ichigo was transfixed by the sight of it. He wanted to do it again, felt his hand already starting to move, but he stopped himself, frowning at his own actions, frowning at Renji.

Sometime in the night, a lock of hair had slipped forward, a vivid crimson slash against the unmarred cheek. Brows still drawn together in confusion, Ichigo withdrew his hand from the blanket, reaching up to tuck it back behind an ear. His fingers grazed the delicate skin behind Renji's jaw and his chin rose slightly, as if arching into to the soft caress.

Ichigo felt something twist inside him, a dizzy sort of tingle that seemed to spread through his veins. There was a warning going off in his head, but he couldn't make sense of it in the haze of the moment. His thumb ghosted along the exposed neck, drawing a soft hiss from Renji, and the warning increased tenfold. Lashes fluttered slightly and swept open as Renji turned towards him with sleep clouded eyes. He snatched his hand back, realizing this was far worse than being caught asleep against the other man.

"Ichigo?" Renji's was rough, and there was a hint of confusion behind it.

Ichigo bolted upright, the blanket pooling around his waist as he tried to roll off of the futon. Renji was quicker, though, and shot a hand out capturing his wrist.

"What's goin' on, Ichigo?" He sounded more awake as he settled on his back, tugging the wrist to keep the younger man seated.

Ichigo gripped Renji's forearm with his other hand, the color draining from his face. "I need to go."

"What's going on?" he repeated, drawing himself up so they were face to face.

Ichigo watched the blanket fall away over the bare, tattooed flesh and felt his panic rise. He pulled harder against the restraining hand. "Let me go."

Renji ignored him, reaching out with his free hand to catch the side of his neck, stilling his movements and tilting his head back up. Wide eyes snapped to his and he frowned, thumb brushing across the wildly beating pulse in his throat.

"What's the matter with you?" His voice was low and concerned.

Ichigo belatedly realized that if he _had_ been asleep then he'd probably only felt the very last of the touch, making this outburst all the more confusing. He tried to think rationally, but Renji's thumb was still stroking calming circles against his neck and it was making things a bit more complicated. He cursed Renji's inability to remain still.

"What the fuck did I tell you about petting me?" he tried for a dry tone but he could hear the flutter in his voice.

Renji frowned, thumb stilling over his pulse. "I-"

"Abari-san, can you…" Urahara slipped the door open and stepped through before drawing up short at the sight of them.

Ichigo could only imagine what they must look like, sitting in bed together, still half under the blanket with Renji cupping the side of his neck. He pulled back roughly and this time Renji let him go, hands dropping to rest on his knees.

"My apologies, I should have knocked," Urahara said lightly, turning to leave.

"No!" Ichigo yelped, standing so quickly that he staggered into the wall. Urahara paused in the doorway. They were both looking at him with varying degrees of confusion. He cleared his throat. "I mean, It's not…I was just…"

"Don't worry, Kurosaki-kun. I'll go see about breakfast." Urahara waved his hand dismissively.

"No!" Ichigo winced at the sharpness in his own tone, trying to calm himself. "I have to go, I have school."

Urahara was frowning now, running a critical eye over him as though looking for some previously undetected injury. There was a rustle of cloth as Renji stood, adjusting the dark cotton pants hanging low on his hips and frowning as well. Ichigo snatched his shirt off the table, yanking it roughly over his head. He started for the door but Renji caught him again, fingers closing around his upper arm.

"What the hell's goin' on in your head this mornin'?" he demanded, the concern starting to war with irritation.

"Nothing, I'm fine." Ichigo gritted his teeth, conscious of both sets of eyes on him still. "I just have a headache from working with Urahara-san yesterday and I'm already running late."

He shrugged out of the hold and made his way to the door, nodding briefly to Urahara who was still studying him with mild concern. He heading down the hall as fast as he could, trying to ignore the soft voices from the room he'd just vacated, undoubtedly discussing his odd behavior. He tugged on his shoes and broke into a light jog, heading for home. He'd told the truth when he said he was running late.

**(*)**

The sky was a lazy, rolling thing, spattered with wisps of cloud that seemed to drift just out of reach. Ichigo lay flat on his back on the riverbank, watching them pass, wondering if it meant anything at all. The grass tickled against his cheek and he wanted to brush it aside but he couldn't seem to move. It was warm. The breeze ruffled his hair slightly, reminding him of when he used to come here and play with his mother. It was warm but Ichigo was cold.

He wasn't stupid, he was impulsive and hotheaded, but he recognized that these weren't quite the same thing. He had the ability to think rationally about something if he put his mind to it, not that he often took the time to do so. Of course, not being stupid didn't prevent him from doing stupid things, not even remotely.

He hated running away, it was the coward's way out and he always felt like he was betraying himself when he did it. He'd spent most of his recent years running straight at the biggest danger he could find, not even taking time to consider that there could be another option. He'd done it for Chad, when bullies had come because they knew he wouldn't fight back. He'd done it for Rukia, when he'd seen her led away to die and all of Soul Society stood against him. He'd done it for complete strangers threatened by hollow and worse. All those times, he'd stood against immeasurable odds with nothing but his own resolve to see him through, and yet here he was running away, letting himself down.

It was cowardly because it didn't solve anything. It wasn't a strategic retreat; it was facing your fears and crumbling under the weight of them. The entire situation with Renji was so monumentally confusing that he didn't even know where to begin to think about it. Somehow he'd gone from an antagonistic, competitive friendship to a still somewhat antagonistic, partially concerned, falling asleep together friendship in just under a week.

He considered it a friendship because he didn't know what else to call it; it was all just weird. Part of the reason it was so confusing, however, was that he spent an extraordinary amount of time either wallowing in horror, trying desperately no to think about it, or simple running. There were never going to be any answers if he couldn't stop running, couldn't face up to his fears long enough to recognize what they were. As it stood, he wasn't even completely sure what he was running _from_, which is almost always a bad way to do things. He felt lighter for a moment, like he'd just figured out something important.

Unfortunately these moments of divine clarity are most often associated with events of horrific trauma, in which the mind seems to separate from reality and drift away into retrospect. This was the case with Ichigo, who ultimately came to these realizations while gripping the rather large spike shoved through his chest, and sinking deeper into the spreading pool of his own blood. It is one of the great ironies of fate that only in death can some people find understanding.

Everything had started out simple enough. He'd had his fiasco with Renji and then he'd gone to school; noting how much quieter everything seemed without Rukia there to scold him every five minutes. When school had let out he'd gone home to change and then gone out for a walk. He called it a walk but more accurately it was hiding. He didn't want to stay home because he was afraid that Renji might show up and he didn't want to go to Urahara's because then he'd have to face them both. He knew that he wasn't really going to be that hard to find if someone was actually looking as his reiatsu defied all attempts to contain it, but he felt better when he was out and moving.

He hadn't bothered to leave his body at home because he wasn't planning on fighting anything. He had his substitute badge with him, though, because he wasn't stupid. Half an hour of aimless wandering had brought him to the river, to the tree where he'd first fallen asleep on Renji. He'd dropped down, staring out over the water, trying to simultaneously think about and _not_ think about the events of that morning. He scowled, rubbing idly at his temple; he hadn't been lying about his headache and it still hadn't gone away.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed, but he was laying on his back and staring up at the sky when he felt a surge of something brush against his awareness. He pushed up on his elbows, but it was gone almost as soon as he'd noticed it. It had felt like a hollow for a second, but he hadn't been able to tell how far away or even in what direction. He concentrated for another few minutes, feeling around for anything abnormal and finding nothing. He dropped back into the grass, flinging an arm over his face and wondering if he'd been imagining things or if someone was just quick on the kill today.

He wondered if Inoue and Rukia had made it to Soul Society alright, but figured he'd have heard about it by now if they hadn't. He was killing time by trying to imagine what they might be training when something ticked the back of his senses again. He removed the arm from his face, frowning in concentration. Whatever it was felt really dull, a sort of oily feeling that he just couldn't hold onto it. He figured it must be far away because he could barely make it out. He turned his head in the grass, looking back towards town, trying to pinpoint what and where it was. It didn't feel like a hollow this time, but with the strange things that had been happening recently it was best not to assume anything. He sighed, figuring he should probably go take a look just to be sure.

He hadn't even managed to sit all the way up when the air in front of him seemed to waver and a sharp pain tore though his entire body. He felt the thing punch though his ribs, flesh and organs, before ripping out of his back to bury deep in the ground. He hadn't seen it coming, he hadn't felt it coming, and it was over before he even realized what had happened. One hand came up to claw at the bony protrusion embedded in the middle of his chest, so thick that he his fingers couldn't close around it.

He couldn't see what had hit him; the long shaft just disappeared into midair directly in front of him. There was the strange shifting again and it came into view, so grotesque and twisted that he recognized it immediately as one of Aizen's new Arrancar experiments. He remembered in Soul Society that Aizen had bragged about creating hollows that could hide their reiatsu, and even hide their bodies. It seemed that he had adapted the same principals to his Arrancar work. Even now, looking straight at the thing, he was having trouble feeling it. It was that same fuzzy, slippery feeling that he just couldn't quite focus on. It sneered at him, lips pulling back over broken yellow teeth.

"Poor little shinigami, all alone with no one to hear you scream," it mocked, its voice like nails across glass, red eyes alight with triumph.

The spike ground deeper, tearing a strangled cry from his throat and he felt the blood rise to stain his lips. Something wet was creeping under his neck and he realized that he was losing blood fast, too fast; a tingling was already setting into his fingers and toes. Ichigo felt something inside of himself start to slip, blurring the corners of his vision. His hand fell away, bouncing off the soft grass at his side, twitching slightly as he struggled to breath. He shook his head to clear the spots that were dancing in front of his eyes, trying to force his arm off the ground and towards the badge hanging from his belt. There was a blinding pain and he choked out a screamed as another spike pierced his forearm, slamming it back into the blood soaked earth. The leering face came closer, fading in and out of focus, laughing at his anguish.

His head fell to the side, away from the fetid breath and he found his Hollow standing next to him with Zangetsu flanking him to the left. Above him, the Arrancar continued to crow its triumph, unable to see anything out of the ordinary. His Hollow looked more solemn then Ichigo had ever seen him, torn robes fluttering gently and the pure white daito of his bankai clutched loosely in his hand. The cold black and yellow eyes bored into his own, flickering with something unreadable. He wasn't sneering or laughing as Ichigo would have expected from him in a moment like this, he didn't even look angry. He simply watched. Ichigo's eyes shifted to Zangetsu and found him watching as well, looking infinitely weary, his eyes betraying a sadness that scared Ichigo more than anything else to that point. He realized that it was a bad sign for them to be here together, manifesting themselves but unable to do more than watch.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything to stop them from looking at him like that but all that came out was a trickle of bloody bubbles. He choked and Zangetsu seemed to wince, as though they were connected somehow in their pain. He realized that they probably were, and he regretting that they had to suffer with him. His Hollow seemed to sway and long fingers curled around the side of his neck as Zangetsu held him in place, stepping closer to the smaller body to lend his support. They were dying, Ichigo realized with a sense of detached horror. They were dying because he was dying and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

He flinched, feeling lightheaded, trying to stay conscious, trying to move. Another scream, more broken than the last tore free as he felt his other arm pierced, splaying him out mercilessly before his tormentor. The pain receded quicker this time, settling into a dull sort of numbness and a sickening feeling of cold. Zangetsu shuddered, dropping his forehead against the Hollow's snow white hair as his knees started to buckle. His fingers tightened on the pale throat and the Hollow tipped his head away, opening his neck further to the touch. The yellow eyes slipped closed and it would have almost seemed sensual but for the pain etched in every line of his body.

Ichigo could feel his arms moving as they were dragged across the ground, spreading him wide like some ritual sacrifice. He didn't bother to look up, his world had faded and he could no longer see past the two figures beside him. His Hollow fell to his knees, sword driving deep into the ground as he fought to stay upright. Zangetsu followed him down, arms curling around the Hollow's chest, head resting against the white shoulder.

One ghostly pale hand slipped through the grass to brush against Ichigo's fingers where they lay pinned between them. He wanted to pull away, because this show of sympathy or support from the Hollow meant unbearable things. He wanted to throw him off as those white fingers slipped across his palm, smearing crimson stains over his flesh as they warped around his hand. He wanted to but he couldn't, he couldn't even find the strength to curl his own fingers in response.

"Sorry, king." The voice barely reached him and he wondered if it was the Hollow's voice or his own ears that were failing. It didn't really matter, he decided, as the darkness overcame him and the hot breath of the Arrancar descended. It didn't matter because there was no more time for it to matter. He wished that he had the breath to say goodbye.


	7. Amnesty

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Amnesty**

Renji sighed, standing atop a building in the shopping district, staring down into the crowded streets. Ever since the last Arrancar attack, Hitsugaya had decided to tighten up their patrols, meaning he could no longer simply rely on his communicator. It wasn't a big deal, he supposed, but it did get boring just wandering around when there was nothing to do. Usually, he would have taken out his gigai and wandered the streets with the humans, but he was feeling restless today and had decided to stick to the rooftops.

The whole thing with Ichigo was still bothering him, and he couldn't get it out of his mind. He'd expected him to be a bit jumpy, because that was fast becoming their established routine, but this had seemed different. There had been something in his eyes, something more than the usual overly dramatic, perversely amusing, sense of teenage awkwardness. No, this had seemed more real somehow, and it had been enough strip away Renji's humor.

He was pretty sure that the tickle of fingers against his neck, which he'd felt upon waking, had something to do with it, but he didn't know how. The look on Ichigo's face when he'd snatched back his hand was so painfully confused and afraid that Renji had reached out to catch him without thinking. Vulnerability was not an emotion that Ichigo carried well and anyone who knew him would have been concerned.

They'd already established that the kid was touchy, so he wasn't sure why this latest example would cause such a strong reaction. He wondered if he'd missed something while he'd been asleep, but he didn't dwell on it because there was no way to tell. The only answers were going to come from Ichigo, but he seemed to be hiding which made things more difficult. Renji snorted in amusement. Ichigo was really bad at hiding; his reiatsu was like a beacon to anyone who was looking for him. Renji could feel him over by the river, where he'd been for the past hour or so, but he stayed clear. If the younger man needed to be alone then he was willing to respect that.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar flash of black and green flitting through the crowd. Renji frowned, wondering what had brought Urahara out today. It wasn't unusual for the shopkeeper to be going about some business or another, but Renji rarely happened upon him when he was. Curious and bored, he followed him until they emerged onto a less crowded street and then dropped from the roof to join him.

"Lovely afternoon, isn't it, Abarai-san?" Urahara greeted him, not bothering to turn as the other man fell into step.

"Slow afternoon," Renji corrected, settling his hand on Zabimaru.

"I suppose it depends on how you look at it." He pulled his hat lower and regarded the redhead from the corner of his eye. "Have you seen our wayward young friend today, by any chance?"

"Not since this mornin'." Renji shrugged. "Seemed best to let him calm down."

"I suppose," Urahara conceded, a small smile playing on his lips.

Renji raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was thinking and the smile grew. He was about to question him further when a buzzing from his pocket brought them both to a stop. Renji dug out his communicator, but no sooner had he flipped it open than it fell silent once again. He frowned at the tiny screen as it seemed to flicker, displaying a faint, wavering pulse.

"That's weird," he muttered as Urahara moved to peer over his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked, eyeing a dot that seemed to grow brighter for a second and then disappear.

"Battery might be getting low." Renji shook it slightly. "It's actin' funny."

"May I?" Urahara reached out and Renji handed over the small device.

The older man tapped through a series of screens, checking the readouts that monitored performance, "It seems to be working fine, except for the strange pulse." He frowned, looking off into the distance. "It looked like it was coming from somewhere near Kurosaki-san."

Renji closed his eyes and concentrated, "I don't feel anything over there except for Ichigo."

"Neither do I," Urahara agreed, as he turned to move in that direction.

The alarm went off a couple more times, a half second chirp before returning to silence. Neither spoke when this happened, just picked up their pace a little more. Renji was starting to feel the first real tickle of foreboding when Ichigo's reiatsu suddenly spiked dangerously and then wavered. Beside him, Urahara gasped and was gone, shifting into shunpo even as Renji's own instincts kicked in.

Urahara was fast, and Renji was hard pressed to keep up, though his time serving under Byakuya had honed his shunpo skills. The shimmer of the water was just coming into view when they heard a horrible, broken scream, and Ichigo's reiatsu, which had been fluttering unstably, seemed to die away. Renji felt something cold twist inside of him as they flew over the hill and came face to face with an Arrancar.

For a moment Renji didn't see Ichigo and it didn't make sense because he'd been so sure he was here. Urahara made a strange choking noise and he whipped his head around, following his line of sight to the motionless body pinned partway beneath the beast. Ichigo was a mass of torn and bloody flesh, skewed like some grotesque experiment laid out for dissection. He wasn't moving, head tipped to the side, eyes half open and unblinking.

Urahara shouted something and the world seemed to rip apart in a blast of crimson light. The Arrancar leapt aside, tearing its tentacles out of Ichigo with a sickening, wet crunch that sent him sprawling. It caught the end of the blast, screaming in agony as an arm burned away, hitting the ground hard and skidding backwards. Urahara jumped forward, Benihime humming in his hand and his reiatsu crackling wildly.

"Check him," he yelled back as he unleashed another blast at the Arrancar.

Renji was already moving, falling to his knees in the in the grass, leaning over the body to shield it with his own. Trembling fingers slipped across blood slick skin, searching for a pulse but unable to find one. He grabbed the ghostly pale face, the sightless eyes staring through him as he pressed his palm against the temple. He closed his eyes, searching for any trace of reiatsu but was overpowered by the sheer pressure of the battle raging behind him.

It was like a nightmare, surreal and terrifying, lying there across Ichigo, the blood soaking through robes as another blast of energy exploded into the earth. He'd seen death a hundred times over, but he wasn't prepared for something like this. He'd always seen Ichigo as something of an immortal, someone who could always find a way, no matter how impossible, to overcome anything that was set before him. For someone like that to die such a senseless and random death was unfathomable to Renji. It was not supposed to happen.

He jerked Zabimaru from his sheath, feeling him scream in his hand and in his mind. The urge to cut and tear and kill was nearly overpowering and yet he couldn't bring himself to leave Ichigo unprotected. He leaned over the body as the Arrancar screamed again and felt the warm spatter of blood across his back as Urahara took another piece out of it.

"Is he dead?" the older man shouted at him from a few feet away, barely managing to block a counter attack.

Renji tried to reply but the words lodged in his throat, as if not saying them out loud would keep it from being true. He tore his eyes from Urahara, staring down at the pale, expressionless face, at his own fingers still curled against the blood streaked throat. There were just no words for this.

Something brushed against his fingers, a sort of murky energy, and his eyes went wide. For a moment he saw nothing, and then the air seemed to stir, like a spirit fading into existence before his eyes. It looked like Ichigo, but not, and for one terrifying moment he thought the Arrancar had somehow affected Ichigo's soul. Then snow tipped lashes swept up over cold, yellow eyes and Renji recognized it for what it had to be. He's seen that look behind countless masks in his lifetime, just never in the face of a friend.

"You fucking dumbshit," it choked, barely audible, glaring at him as it shuddered. This one outburst seemed to have exhausted its strength because its eyes fell closed again. It rested its head against the grass, loosing substance rapidly until it faded back into nothing.

He had no time to consider the oddity of the words because at that moment Ichigo's body gave an almost imperceptible shudder to match the one he'd just seen. A soft sort of choking wheeze rose in the pale throat and Renji felt it tremble against his fingers.

"Fuck!" Renji fell backwards, his eyes swinging back to where Urahara was still holding his ground. "I think he's alive."

Urahara seemed to falter and was nearly run through when his eyes snapping to Renji in disbelief. He could see the questions running over the former captain's face and knew that they were mirrored in his own, but there was no way to voice them.

"Take him and run," he shouted, leaping back into his fight, all other thoughts pushed aside.

Renji was already doing just that, pulling the younger man roughly against his chest, trying to ignore the crunch of bones as they slid together. He righted himself quickly, struggling to hold his footing in the blood drenched grass.

"Abarai, look out."

His head snapped towards the yell and found that the thing had disappeared, leaving Urahara turning a slow circle as he desperately tried to track it. Renji barely managed to leap aside as a spike came from nowhere, driving into the ground, forcing him off balance as it took a second swing. Urahara was flying towards them and the second Renji hit the ground, he took off in a sprint, trusting the older man to cover his retreat. The thing was shouting its rage over its escaping prey, bearing down on him fast and he knew it would be on him soon.

There was a flash of white in front of him and he felt a massive surge of reiatsu. Something coiled, tight and fast, and there was a shattering roar as Hyourinmaru joined the fray, cutting low over his shoulder to smash into the beast. Hitsugaya leapt past him and their eyes locked for a moment. He saw the captain blanch as his eyes fell to Ichigo but he didn't stop. There was no time to do anything but pray to any gods that would listen as he shifted into shunpo and left them all behind.

Fear is a powerful motivator, it can drive a person to push themselves harder than they had ever imagined possible. As Renji sped across the rooftops, slicked with the blood of the limp body clutched gracelessly against him, he was more afraid than he had ever been in his life. Not in the dozens of times he'd watched his own death approaching, not even when he'd watched Aizen thrust his hand through Rukia's chest, had he ever felt the hopelessness with such brutal clarity.

Urahara's shop sped towards him but he didn't slow, instead using kidou to simply blast the front door open as he screamed for help. There was an instant pounding of feet and three figures appeared in the hall, ready for a fight. At the sight of Renji and his pale, blood-soaked burden, the children's eyes went wide and they seemed to freeze in place. Tessai alone retained motor control, though he didn't look much better off. After only a moment's hesitation he scooped the body from the panting shinigami and raced back down the hall, yelling instructions to the children as he went.

Renji dazedly followed the larger man and watched as he laid Ichigo on the floor, peeling away the remains of his shirt. He crouched on the other side of the body, staring down into the sightless eyes gone black as the pupils dilated. He felt the ice begin to form in his veins.

"There's nothing I can do for him," Tessai murmured, grief choking his normally stoic voice as he wrung his hands in indecision.

"There has to be somethin'," Renji snapped at him, eyes hard and dangerous. "Just do what you can."

"This is a mortal wound, Abarai-san. I could heal some of the physical damage but it would be too little far too late." Tesasi's eyes pleaded with him to understand. "There is nothing more to be done."

"I ain't interested in what you think," Renji snarled, his hand closing around Zabimaru, "You just do whatever you fuckin' can or I swear to the gods you're gonna follow him."

Tessai didn't look particularly intimidated, but he seemed to understand that it was necessary because a second later he was bent over the still form, hands glowing and brow furrowed in concentration. The children came and went, providing what aid they could and always close by in case they were needed. Renji held his place, never twitching a muscle, watching the skin and bone knit back together as he clutched one limp hand in his own.

**(*)**

There were voices; they were always talking, even though he couldn't make out what they were saying. It was strange, the voices, because there was no real sense of order, or even time, and so their existence was something of a mystery. Most of them were familiar, some were even identifiable, and one time it almost seemed like he could hear his father. Wherever he was it was dark and he didn't like it. It definitely wasn't his inner world, he'd tried to make his way there and failed, and it didn't seem like the real world either. He'd stopped trying to identify it after a few minutes, or was it years, and had decided to focus instead on the voices.

The seemed clearer now than they had before, when it was like he was hearing them through a blanket of water. They were mumbling and he still couldn't make out what they were saying, though a couple of times he thought he heard his name. They got briefly louder, like someone was arguing and then they abruptly cut off with the distinct click of a door sliding into place.

At first he thought he was alone again, but then something cold touched him. He would have jumped if he were able because it was the first thing he'd felt since he arrived in this place. Something seemed to slide across his chest, leaving behind an uncomfortable sort of tickle that made him want to squirm away. The pressure disappeared and he felt a chill on his skin, though he hadn't been warm in the first place. He wanted to turn on a light or something, see what was going on, but he couldn't figure out where to begin.

The touch came again, softer than the first time, warmer. It was sliding across his flesh in strange, seemingly senseless patterns, stopping occasionally to press deeper into him. It was on about the third of these stops that he realized the pressure hurt, a sharp, stinging, crushing feeling. Irritated at the pain, and at his inability to see his attacker, he focused all of his available energy on trying to knock it away. He felt a burning in his arm, accompanied a tearing sensation, and there was a sharp intake of breath from somewhere close to him.

"Kurosaki-kun?" The voice was close, very close, and wonderfully familiar.

"Urahara-san?" He tried to say, but all he heard was an unintelligible choking.

There was a rustle of cloth and then something was slipping under his head, lifting it up so a cup could be pressed to his lips. It burned and tasted like death, he tried to push it away but his body didn't seem to want to comply.

"Is that better?" His head was lowered back down.

"No." At least it sounded like a word this time.

"Can you open your eyes?" There was the slightest hint of amusement in the voice now.

He started to answer no again but stopped himself because he hadn't even tried. He'd never really considered that the darkness might be banished by something as simple as opening his eyes, because it had seemed more powerful than that. He concentrated on the task but nothing happened. He swore a mental string of insults at himself and pulled everything together for a second attempt. Slowly, and accompanied by the feeling of trying to lift a small car, light began to flood back into his world.

It took a moment for things to clear but when the room finally swam into focus, he found Urahara leaning over him with a look of intense concern. The older man dropped his gaze, looking for something, and then held up a bottle for him to see.

"I need you to drink this." He slipped a hand back under neck and brought the bottle to his lips.

"No," Ichigo protested against the glass rim.

"Don't be difficult, Kurosaki-kun." There was a definite tone of relieved amusement now.

Ichigo wanted to object further but the bottle was tipped up and his only options were to swallow or choke. This one didn't burn so much but it tasted worse, if that was even possible. Whatever it was seemed to take effect immediately and he felt a tingle run through him as his head cleared further. Without warning his whole body was alight with pain.

"Fuck, everything hurts," he complained, finally managing to wrench his rebellious arm off the floor. The whole thing was covered in bandages, from his fingers all the way up to where it disappeared from his line of sight.

"I would be astounded if it didn't." Urahara sounded serious again and Ichigo found the other man watching him with an unreadable look.

"What's wrong, Urahara-san?" He gave the fingers one experimental flex, ignoring the fresh wave of pain, before returning it to the ground.

"You should be dead," Urahara said plainly.

Ichigo managed to raise his head slightly, looking down at himself. His chest was bare, though there were a pile of bandages lying on either side of him and he realized Urahara must have been cutting them away. The skin looked raw in places, like it was not quite healed and there were a mosaic of dark bruises radiating out from the center.

"Yeah, guess I got lucky this time." he muttered, still staring at himself.

"You misunderstand." Something in the tone brought his gaze back around to where Urahara still watched his with narrowed eyes. "I mean that you _should_ be dead, regardless of luck. The wound you sustained should have killed you before we ever reached you."

Ichigo frowned up at him. "Well I don't seem to be dead, so how is that possible?"

"I don't know, yet." Urahara settled back a little and Ichigo finally noticed how tired he looked. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I think I saw Renji, but everything was really dark. Before that it was just me, the Arrancar, Zangetsu, and my Hollow." Ichigo let his head fall back to the ground, no longer able to support its weight.

"Both your Hollow and Zangetsu were there?" Urahara asked, sounding perplexed. "What were they doing?"

"I don't know, just watching." His eyes closed on a grimace as he tried to shift his body. "Seemed like they were in pain."

"Well, Zangetsu was able to contain some of your wounds when you fought Zaraki Kenpachi, but nothing to this degree. Did he say anything to you?" Urahara was speaking slowly, as if trying to piece something together.

"No, he seemed more focused on my Hollow, actually." Ichigo turned his head so that he could see the other man. "It was like he was trying to protect him or something."

Urahara's eyes widened fractionally, like he'd caught onto something that Ichigo was still missing. "Has your hollow ever shown the ability to heal you?"

Ichigo returned his gaze to the ceiling, slightly uncomfortable with the topic. "The Vizard said that when I turned into a full hollow I had some sort of instant regeneration, but that's never carried over into even my shinigami body, let alone my human one." He tried for a shrug but failed.

"Theoretically it's possible that he could still be able to affect you, but I suspect that it would take a great deal of effort, and would probably be dangerous for him." Urahara sounded thoughtful. "Zangetsu could have been lending his support."

"Well he was using bankai," Ichigo admitted, glancing at him from the corner of his eye, "But it's hard to imagine him helping me. He spends most of his time just waiting for me to slip up like that."

"I doubt you'd be much use to him dead." Urahara gave him a pointed look.

Ichigo couldn't deny that so he just remained silent, focusing once again on trying to shift his uncooperative body.

"You shouldn't try to move, the damage is still healing," Urahara admonished. "I need to apply some medicine and rewrap your chest. There are others who want to talk to you about that Arrancar. They've been waiting for you to wake."

"Hmm." Ichigo didn't really feel like answering questions right now. "How long was I out anyway?"

"Three days." Urahara was pouring some pungent sludge into the center of his chest.

"Three days?" Ichigo tried to sit up but fell back with a strangled yelp.

"Yes, and you'll be down longer if you reopen your wounds," Urahara reminded him, reaching for some clean bandages.

Ichigo huffed but remained still. In truth, he felt like his arms were going fall off, and just trying to sit up had his heart pounding like he'd run clear across town. He decided that it was probably better to just stare at the ceiling for awhile longer until the room stopped spinning. At least it wasn't the ceiling from home; this one still held some mysteries for him.

**(*)**

Eight hours later Ichigo decided that if he didn't find a way out of the room soon he was going to go crazy. Urahara had finished wrapping him up and had gone to spread the news of his return to the world of the waking. Shortly thereafter Hitsugaya had arrived to discuss the new breed of Arrancar with him. They had gone over everything several times, with Ichigo strategically leaving out the parts that involved him having an inner Hollow, and Hitsugaya eyeing him like he suspected an omission. Apparently, those immediately involved in his treatment had glossed over the part where he should have died, because Hitsugaya seemed relatively uninterested in his miraculous survival.

Once he was satisfied with the story, Hitsugaya had filled Ichigo in on what the Shinigami had been doing while he was unconscious. It had been decided that it was too dangerous to continue patrolling alone, and so they were splitting into teams to prevent Ichigo's fate from befalling anyone else. It seemed that, with Rukia off with Inoue, they were short a man when it came to making teams and were wondering if he wanted to lend a hand when he was feeling up to it. It would make it easier to have three teams on eight hour rotations, rather than having to continuously mix and match people at odd hours. Ichigo, who had no intention of being left out, had readily agreed.

After Hitsugaya left, Tessai had come in to continue his treatments. The large man seemed to regard him with a mix of awe and apprehension as he worked and it made Ichigo wonder exactly how bad he'd looked when he'd first come in. He'd fallen asleep sometime during the process, trapped in dreams filled with agony, death, and whispered apologies. He woke to an empty room, far less pain, and an overwhelming need to be up and moving. When he was idle, all he could think of was the horrible cold of dying and the sight of his Hollow reaching for him through blood soaked grass.

He briefly considered calling out to see if anyone might be lurking but decided against it, figuring that whoever he managed to rouse would likely demand that he remain in bed. He scanned the area for any useful tools, but other than the futon he was currently occupying the room was bare.

Finally, realizing there was nothing else for it, he began the rather uncomfortable process of rolling onto his stomach. Once there he managed to push himself onto his knees, gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain in his arms. He'd certainly experienced worse pain than this and if it meant his freedom then it was a small price to pay. Once on his knees it was easier; his lower body hadn't sustained much injury at all. He managed to sway to his feet on only the second attempt and stood there panting, congratulating himself on his success.

The door was tantalizingly close, but his first step nearly sent him sprawling back to the ground as his legs tried to give out. He grimaced, clutching an arm against his chest as he staggered, just barely managing to keep his balance. Shuffling seemed to work better, though it made him feel like an old man. The way he saw it, it was better to be an old man and be outside than it was to be a young man who fell down, ripped open his newly healed chest wound, and got yelled at for an hour.

Reaching his destination, he leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath and listening for movement. It would be easier if he knew what time it was, but there were no windows in the room and he hadn't bothered to ask anyone earlier. He was hoping for night, because otherwise there'd likely be someone in the front of the store, which would make his little adventure all the more difficult.

Deciding that the only way to be sure was to check it out personally, he slid the door back a little, peaking through the crack. It seemed dark out there, which he took for a good sign even though there were no windows in the hall either. He pushed the door open and old man shuffled out of the room, stopping once again to listen. He couldn't hear anyone in the front of the store, or anywhere else for that matter, so he decided to head in that direction. Bracing himself against the wall with one arm, he started forward, already feeling the strain of exertion. He could almost taste the fresh air on his tongue; it tasted like freedom; it tasted like victory; it tasted like…

"What the fuck do you think you're doin'?" It tasted like getting caught red handed; Ichigo cringed, turning slowly to face the irate figure behind him.

"Well?" Renji demanded, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Um…walking?" Ichigo tried, leaning into the wall a bit more to hide the fact that his legs were starting to shake.

"I know you're fuckin' walking," Renji scowled at him, "You ain't supposed to be up, you're supposed to be sleepin' like ya were an hour ago."

"What are you, my nurse or something?" Ichigo griped, irritated at having been caught and at the way the world was starting to spin ominously.

"It's my turn to watch your ass so that you don't do anythin' stupid like get out of bed," Renji snapped at him, frowning as he looked him over. "Shit, ya look half dead again."

"I'm fine," Ichigo forced out, even as the spinning turned into a full on lurch.

He staggered once before Renji's arm closed around him, palm splayed against his lower back as he held the smaller body against his own. Ichigo's hands came up to steady himself, clutching at the folds of his kimono.

"The fuck you are," Renji muttered into his hair, though he seemed to have lost his anger.

"Just need to catch my breath," Ichigo panted, dropping his forehead against the dark shoulder.

"You need to be resting." He felt Renji's free hand threading through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I've _been_ resting," Ichigo pointed out stubbornly, eyes closing as the long fingers stroked slowly up his scalp.

"You almost died, dumbass." Renji started to turn him around, but had to stop when Ichigo slumped against him. "Ya scared the shit out of me," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as he held him closer.

"Sorry," Ichigo mumbled into his shoulder. "If it bothers you that much, I'll try not to get stabbed again."

"Asshole," Renji smirked, bending down to catch him behind the knees, lifting him against his chest.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" Ichigo demanded, wincing as his body protested the move.

"You need to be in bed and ya can't walk." Renji was still smirking.

"I can walk fine," Ichigo griped, scowling fiercely.

"Sure you can." Renji headed back towards the empty room.

"Put me down," Ichigo hissed. "I'm not going back in there."

"Stop bitchin'," the redhead snapped at him.

"I mean it, Renji; I'm going crazy in that room. There's nothing to do but stare at the damn ceiling." Ichigo was starting to struggle a bit. "I'm just going to leave again."

Renji stopped, glaring at him in frustration, "Well ya can't just wander around either, it's too dangerous. Ya gotta heal."

Ichigo glared back at him. "You try laying there for hours on end and see how you like it. You're as bad as me when you get injured, so don't give me this bullshit about just taking it."

It was true and they both knew it, though Renji wasn't about to admit it. The tension crackled between them as each tried to subdue the other through force of will. Finally, Renji just sighed and turned back around.

"Where are we going now?" Ichigo demanded, trying to ignore the bone deep pain that was starting to throb in time with his own heart.

"Somewhere I can keep a better eye on ya," Renji grumbled.

He paused further down the hall and managed to pry his own door open with one foot. He knelt next to his futon and lowered Ichigo onto it carefully, doing his best not to jostle him too much. He closed the door and returned to run an assessing eye over the younger man.

"Doesn't look like you tore anything," he noted before a wry smile stole across his face. "Where were you plannin' to go dressed like that, anyway?"

Ichigo glanced down at himself, realizing that he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a whole lot of bandages. He scowled; he'd been in such a hurry to get out the door that he hadn't cared what he was wearing. He glanced back up at Renji, finding him still smiling at the situation, and couldn't help the tug at the corner of his own lips. It really was kind of funny.

"I was going out," he said haughtily, tipping his chin up slightly.

Renji chuckled in amusement, tugging at his clothes to loosen them.

"I can't sleep on my side," Ichigo pointed out, wondering how they were going to work the sleeping arrangements.

"I know." Renji was pulling off layers of clothing. "You need the rest more than I do."

"You're not going to sleep?" Ichigo asked, turning away as Renji stripped completely and stepped into a pair of loose fitting, cotton pants.

"Don't worry about it." He shrugged, shaking his hair free and running his fingers through it. "It's not a big deal."

"Wait." Ichigo called out as he started for a nearby chair. "Maybe you could…um…you know…"

Renji was staring at him and he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. "Maybe you could…um…like I was when we were… in my bed." He bit his lip to keep from wincing at how awkward he sounded.

Renji raised an eyebrow. "It's gonna hurt if I'm draped all over ya?"

"It doesn't hurt much anymore," Ichigo lied. In truth, he didn't think he could sleep alone, not with the images of those yellow eyes and cold, white fingers burned into his memory.

Renji looked at him incredulously. "I felt you shakin' in the hall, I know it hurts."

"Just shut the fuck up and get down here," Ichigo growled at him, his face going a brilliant shade of red.

Renji looked startled, and slightly bemused, but knelt beside the futon. "What's the matter with you now? Most of the time you're bitchin' as loud as you can to keep me from touchin' you, and now, all the sudden ya want me to sleep practically on top of you. Are ya still sufferin' from blood loss?"

"Shut up," Ichigo muttered, looking away.

Renji frowned, realizing that the younger man was serious. He reached out and caught Ichigo's chin, pulling his head back around, his eyes softening. "Nightmares?"

Ichigo mentally cursed Renji for his occasional bursts of insight as he held the dark gaze. "It doesn't matter."

"I saw something that day we found you," Renji murmured, releasing his chin and brushing his fingertips up the side of his face. "It looked like you, but not you. It was fading in and out, so I couldn't see it very well, but it had yellow eyes."

Ichigo felt the fingers bury themselves once again in his hair, soothing away some of the tension the words created. "I-"

"It's okay, I'm pretty sure I know what it was," Renji cut him off, tracing lightly along his ear. "I can still see it when I close my eyes, though. I see it when I sleep."

Ichigo didn't know what to say, there weren't enough lies in the world to explain away something like that. He knew firsthand how haunting those eyes could be.

Renji was still watching him, looking troubled. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

Ichigo managed a brief nod and Renji complied, slipping in next to him, carefully avoiding the worst of his injuries. Ichigo extended his arm through the curtain of hair, allowing room for Renji to press along his side. The redhead threaded a leg between Ichigo's for stability, trying to keep his weight from rolling forward as he settled his head on the younger man's shoulder.

"This has to hurt." His breath ghosted across Ichigo's skin as he wrapped his arm low over the bandaged waist.

"It's fine," Ichigo lied again, striving to keep the tremor out of his voice. In truth, it hurt less than he'd expected, well within bearable limits.

"Liar." Renji sounded like he was smirking again.

Predictably, his fingers begin skimming the skin just above Ichigo's hipbone as soon as they fell idle. He felt the familiar flutter of embarrassment, but there was a strange sort of comfort in the soft tickle and he couldn't find the energy to tell him to stop.

"It's up to you if you want to suffer," Renji continued, his nose brushing Ichigo's jaw as he settled himself better. "I'll stay as long as you need the company."

He knew he should feel insulted by the fact that Renji thought he was afraid, but he couldn't deny it, even to himself. "Thanks," he whispered, barely audible against the other man's hair.

"Don't worry about it." Renji nudged his jaw again in a conscious show of understanding. "I know what it's like to not want to be alone sometimes."

The silence stretched between them, and after a few minute the sharper pain settled into a dull throbbing ache. Ichigo stared into the darkness, sorting through his worries and frowning against the broken memories of his near demise. At some point during his musings, Renji's fingers had stopped moving, and he realized that he was asleep. He wrapped his arm around him carefully, feeling suddenly protective in the darkness full of his own sluggish fears.

Something felt off inside of him, a strange sort of quiet that was both unfamiliar and frightening. He'd recognized the problem, at least part of it, and though he refused to let himself panic, the worry still lingered. Ever since Urahara shared his theory on Ichigo's survival, he'd been trying to reach his inner world for answers. He wanted to see Zangetsu, or even his Hollow, to ask them what they had done. The problem was that every time he tried to reach them, he failed. A couple of times he thought he felt a tickle, somewhere in the back of his consciousness, but it faded quickly. It was no use, it didn't matter how much he concentrated, or what he tried, there was no answer. His inner world had fallen silent.


	8. Cataclysm

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Cataclysm**

Ichigo woke to the sound of low voices and knew immediately that something was wrong. He was lying on his side, one arm pinned awkwardly beneath him in a way that should have been excruciating but somehow wasn't. In fact, he didn't feel much of anything beyond the decidedly odd sensation that he was floating about three inches off of the ground. That and his head seemed to be too large for his body somehow. He frowned, reaching up to confirm this fact, but succeeded only in smacking himself rather hard as his motor control failed. A strange half giggle escaped from his throat. Oh yes, he decided, something was _definitely_ wrong.

He raised his hand, slower this time, and glared at it suspiciously, choking down another bubble of laughter that rose from nowhere. His movements had alerted the other occupants of the room, and he heard them draw closer. Two faces swam lazily above him and he squinted, wishing they would stop spinning like that.

"Ichigo?" Renji's face dipped lower, eyeing him with concern. "You okay?"

"My hand hit me," he confided, presenting the offending appendage for closer inspection.

There was a snort of laughter and Urahara's face came into focus, grinning down at him. "How are you feeling, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Good morning, Urahara-san," he responded solemnly, offering his wayward hand for perusal by the new arrival.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Renji hissed at the older man, frowning as he caught the wildly swinging arm.

Urahara cocked his head to one side, snickering when Ichigo mirrored the movement. "I'm certain there will be no lasting harm."

"What's going on?" Ichigo slurred, looking between them and tugging on the arm Renji still held captive.

"It seems we've had a little miscommunication," Urahara said pleasantly, two fingers pressing against Ichigo's pulse. "Abarai-san was supposed to give you some medicine for your pain and it seems he's given you just a tad bit much."

"What?" Ichigo bit his lip, trying to concentrate but finding it difficult. "Renji?"

The redhead grimaced, "Remember when I woke ya up awhile ago?"

"Noisy bastard," Ichigo giggled and then frowned at himself in confusion.

"Um, yeah." Renji shot another questioning glance at Urahara who was laughing into his sleeve. "Well, I guess I wasn't supposed to give ya the whole bottle."

Awareness stirred in the back of Ichigo's mind and he felt his first twinge of concern. Somewhere in the sluggish depths of his brain was the knowledge that taking too much of a drug was dangerous.

"I'm gonna die again?" he whispered, a shiver running through him.

"Shh, it's nothing like that," Urahara soothed. "You're fine."

"He's not fine," Renji muttered, reaching out to check the pulse himself.

"Of course he is," the former captain replied lightly, shifting his attention back to Ichigo. "It's not particularly harmful; you're just going to feel a bit odd until I find something to counteract it."

"Oh." Ichigo seemed to contemplate this for a moment before his face lit up in realization. "It made my hand hit me?"

"Indeed." Urahara was still grinning when he turned to Renji. "Can you bring him into the other room? I need to find Tessai."

Renji nodded, eyeing Ichigo warily as the other man left the room. "Do ya think ya can get up?"

"Of course," Ichigo declared sluggishly, tripping over his words and looking vaguely insulted.

"Right." Renji stared at him doubtfully when he made absolutely no move to do so. "How 'bout I carry ya?"

"Okay," he agreed easily, making a grab for the redhead and missing completely.

Ichigo was still frowning at his unexpected failure when a pair of arms slid under him and lifted him easily off of the ground. The world spun wildly and he threw his hands out to steady himself, catching Renji across the face and sending him staggering.

"Watch it," he snapped. "Ya want me to drop your ass?"

"No," Ichigo snickered, wrapping his arms around Renji's neck and leaning into his chest.

"Just stop moving, would ya," Renji huffed, stepping around the futon.

Ichigo wasn't listening, because as soon as his head had stopped spinning he'd found himself eye level with the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. Renji had tattoos on his neck. Of course he'd known that already, but it didn't make them any less interesting. He watched them roll as Renji moved; sharp slashes of coal against his skin. He didn't understand how anything could be that dark and flawless and still be real. He wanted to touch them but seemed to recall there being a rule against it, though he couldn't remember why. His fingers twitched and he bit his lip, wondering if Renji would notice him moving.

Then, in a moment of drug hazed inspiration, a very fuzzy little light seemed to flicker on in his head. Slowly and carefully, so as not to seem suspicious, he leaned forward and ran his tongue over one of those amazingly crisp lines. Renji drew a sharp breath, faltering mid-step as his head snapped down in disbelief.

"Ichigo," his voice was carefully neutral. "What're ya doin'?"

"I wanted to see what your tattoos taste like," Ichigo slurred, squinting up at him as if it should have been obvious.

"Uh-huh." Renji eyed him dubiously, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Ya ain't gonna be too happy about that later."

"They taste good," he assured him, as though this made it alright.

"Just stop movin'." Renji shook his head, wondering how the _real_ Ichigo was going to respond to this little encounter.

The boy in question nuzzled back into his neck but refrained from any more licking. "I like tattoos," he murmured, lips moving against his skin.

"Ya damn well better remember this ain't my fault," Renji grumbled, toeing open the door and marching over to where Urahara and Tessai were crouched. They were pouring over the contents of a strangely colored case, talking in low voices. "Where do ya want him?" he demanded.

"You can set him there." Urahara motioned to nowhere in particular as he looked back and forth between two identical bottles.

Renji knelt and lowered Ichigo carefully to the ground, conscious that he was still injured even if he couldn't feel it. Tessai scooted towards them, peeling back one of Ichigo's eyelids and muttering something under his breath.

"Can you sit up, Kurosaki-kun?" Urahara had joined them.

"Yes," Ichigo assured him, tugging at his own eyelid like he'd felt Tessai doing.

"No," Renji corrected with an exasperated sigh, already moving to help.

He slipped his hands under Ichigo's armpits and hauled him backwards gently, pulling him into a half sitting position against his own chest. He slipped an arm around him, avoiding the worst of the bandages, and looked up at Urahara for further instructions.

"You need to swallow this." He held up a rather ominous looking pill.

Ichigo just blinked at him and Renji's eyes narrowed as he recognized its markings. "Isn't that from 4th division? How'd _you_ get it?"

"I have a good supplier," he replied loftily, touching the pill to Ichigo's lips. "Open," he commanded softly.

Ichigo complied easily, letting the older man slide the thoroughly disgusting thing onto his tongue. He tried to spit it back out but strong fingers slipped under his chin and pushed his mouth closed.

"Swallow," Urahara urged, and was vaguely surprised when Ichigo actually did.

The three of them sat there for a moment, eyeing him doubtfully as if expecting the pill to miraculously rematerialize. When it became clear that he'd actually managed to get it down they breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"How long 'till it works?" Renji asked, opting to keep a hold on Ichigo lest he find some way to hurt himself and ruin their impending victory.

"Not long, I suspect." Urahara seated himself more comfortably on the floor. "They do quality work in 4th division."

The older men fell into light conversation as they waited for their patient to return to himself. Ichigo, for his part, seemed content to just watch them with ever increasing interest. At first he had trouble following what was being said, they were talking so fast and he kept getting distracted by anything that moved. Gradually, though, like a fog lifting, it became easier to make out what was going on and he felt his brain start to grind back into gear. With a jolt, not unlike being electrocuted, everything seemed to click back into place and pain returned to his world, aggravated by all of his previous flailing. He hissed, eyes squeezing shut.

"Ah, I see you're feeling better, Kurosaki-kun," Urahara said brightly, bringing everyone's' attention back to him.

"I feel like I got hit by a truck," Ichigo complained, cracking an eye open.

"An unavoidable side-effect of negating the pain reliever, I'm afraid." He grinned. "At least your hand isn't attacking you anymore."

"What?" Ichigo frowned, feeling the words tickle a fuzzy memory that he was pretty sure he wasn't going to like.

He remembered bits and pieces of what had been happening since he'd woken to a drug hazed stupor, but it was unclear and jumbled. It was like trying to focus on a dream once the light hit it and everything started to burn it away. He frowned in concentration, trying to shuffle things into their proper place. He recalled the incident with his hand, much to his embarrassment, and the conversation about the overdose. He also sort of remembered leaving the room; Renji had been carrying him again. Renji moving carefully, saying something that he wasn't paying attention to because he's been distracted again. Damn tattoos.

His eyes went wide, the pain momentarily forgotten, as he replayed a particular memory that he prayed was just some drug induced hallucination. He winced, dropping his gaze to the floor as he felt the heat start to rise in his cheeks. He was busily trying to come up with some other explanation, _any_ other explanation, for the pictures in his head when something shifted against him. A little chill of foreboding ran through him and very slowly, with the feeling of marching to his own execution, he tipped his head back to look at the man he'd just realized was holding him. Renji met his gaze with trepidation, his expression telling Ichigo that he knew _exactly_ what he was thinking about. Definitely not a hallucination.

"Motherfucker!" he exclaimed to no one in particular, dropping his head back into his hands.

**(*)**

"How are you feeling now?" Urahara asked, setting a cup of tea in front of Ichigo before pouring his own.

The younger man stretched his arm out to the side, flexing his fingers a couple of times before shrugging. "I'm fine."

He'd just finished his final session with Tessai and had downed a correctly measured portion of Urahara's black market, shinigami pain medicine. He didn't feel perfect, far from it, but he'd certainly felt worse so he wasn't complaining. Tessai had even said that he'd be able to return to light duty in a couple of days, as long as he left the majority of the fighting to someone else. Ichigo had scoffed at the idea but had agreed, tired of being cooped up. Of course that raised a whole other issue.

"Urahara-san." he fiddled with one of his bandages, unsure of where to start. "I'm sorta having a problem."

"You're still having trouble reaching Zangetsu?" Urahara sipped his tea, regarding him over the rim of the cup.

"I haven't been able to talk to either him or my Hollow since I woke up," he admitted, not bothering to ask how the older man had known about the issue. Urahara always seemed to be one step ahead.

"It's slightly troubling, but not particularly unexpected," the former captain mused. "It's likely they were gravely injured as well. You must give them time to recover."

"So you think they're just resting somewhere?" Ichigo frowned, considering this.

"I can only assume so." Urahara traced the rim of his hat thoughtfully.

Ichigo sighed heavily, rubbing a hand across his face. "Is there anything I can do to be sure?"

"Easiest method would be to become a shinigami, as that form is more closely linked to your zanpaktou, but I wouldn't recommend a trying it at the moment," Urahara said calmly. "It would be better to wait until at least tomorrow, to give Tessai's work time to set in."

"And if that doesn't work?" Ichigo didn't really feel like waiting, but his near brush with death had left him willing to embrace patience, at least temporarily.

"I have certain methods I could use to force you into your inner world, but I would rather not use them unless it's absolutely necessary," Urahara stated evenly.

"I feel like I did after Byakuya tried to kill me," he admitted quietly. "I feel like I'm cut off from part of myself."

"Are you worried that you may have severed your shinigami powers again, like you did with the one's you took from Rukia?" Urahara had set his tea down and was regarding him with interest.

"I don't know." Ichigo shrugged, a cold knot forming in his stomach. "Is it possible?"

"It's always possible, I suppose," Urahara conceded. "But I don't think it's the case with you."

"Are you sure?" Ichigo asked, feeling somewhat better.

Urahara frowned, his eyes loosing focus for a moment, and Ichigo felt something brush the outer edge of his consciousness. The older man blinked. "Your reiatsu is unstable, but it is definitely still present."

"So what does that mean?" Ichigo pressed.

"It means that we'll know more tomorrow." He sighed, climbing to his feet. "Just try to rest until then."

He paused for a moment, fishing around in his pockets before pulling out Ichigo's substitute badge. He studied it for a moment before handing it carefully to the younger man. "You should probably have this."

"I thought you said it wouldn't be safe," Ichigo questioned, frowning at the thing.

"Well I'm not recommending you use it, but it's safer to have it with you." He smirked down at him. "Your propensity for attracting trouble astounds even me."

Ichigo scowled at him but shoved the badge into his pocket anyway.

"I have some things to attend to," Urahara continued. "Would you like me to send Abarai-san to assist you?"

Ichigo's scowl darkened as a hint of color touched his cheeks. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Urahara's smirk grew. "It wouldn't be a problem."

Ichigo made no reply, not that the older man had been expecting one, and he soon found himself alone in the room. He slumped back against the ground, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. Ever since his less than subtle outburst earlier in the day Urahara had been giving him odd looks of amusement mixed with curiosity. He hadn't asked, but Ichigo knew he was dying to know what had brought it on, and judging by the direction of his comments, he seemed to at least know the general subject matter. Urahara was right; trouble was just drawn to him.

He spent a little while trying to contact Zangetsu and failed once again, though there was a faint stirring this time. Deciding that there was nothing for it but to wait he climbed gingerly to his feet. He really did feel amazingly better, but he was still weighed down by an achy fatigue. He considered trying to walk home, as he had officially been released, but he was reluctant to do so. Urahara had stated that he would need someone to go with him in case something came up, and he had no doubts as to who it would be.

Renji had made a pretty quick exit after his recovery and the brief scene that followed, citing the need to file overdue reports. Ichigo hadn't seen him since, and while part of him was grateful for that, there was another part that was pushing him to seek the redhead out. He had no idea what to say, but the fact was that avoiding him felt like running, and he'd made certain promises to himself regarding that very thing.

Deathbed promises to oneself are often things of great insight and courage, things that challenge beliefs, fears, and even the universe itself. The problem arises when one makes these promises and then fails to die, leaving the resolutions to either be discarded, usually out of cowardice, or upheld. Ichigo was no coward, and so now he was stuck with his decision to stop running away from the embarrassing shit with Renji, at least until he knew what he was running from. He just wished that he'd come to this understanding before any drug impaired _licking_ had occurred, because now he wanted to run more than ever.

He slid the door open and wandered out into the hall. Bypassing all of the rooms, he made his way out through the front of the store, leaning against the building and trying to gather his thoughts. It wasn't really hiding, he told himself, he was just getting some fresh air so that he could think properly. Satisfied with his excuses he slid down to the ground, leaning against the wall and looking out into the gathering dusk.

His mind wandered back to the Arrancar and his own near demise. He wondered if Aizen had some higher purpose for sending it out or if he'd just been unlucky. That was the thing with Aizen, there was no real way to tell what he was thinking because half the stuff he did made no sense. Technically that wasn't true, as it tended to make sense at some later date, but when it was happening it all seemed random.

"Fucking Aizen!" Ichigo muttered angrily to himself. "Crazy-assed, psychotic, plotting bastard."

All reports seemed to indicate that the Arrancar would be ready to move against Soul Society sometime in the winter. Ichigo privately thought it would be a hell of a lot sooner, and he suspected that Urahara would agree. The former captain had taken to locking himself away for days at a time, working on one project or another at a fevered pace. Ichigo didn't bother being curiosity about what he was doing; he figured it was only a matter of time before the other man sought him out for assistance. After all, he was, as Urahara had so eloquently put it, the only Hollow they knew, which made him the most obvious test subject.

He hadn't really minded the Negacion field tests, they wore him out but they didn't hurt that much. It was a bit disconcerting to get dragged into some sort of void dimension but he was never worried, Urahara could always let him out if something went wrong. He wondered if Aizen had perfected the technology yet, because that was a more troubling thought. If Aizen figured out Ichigo's nature then there was a chance he might use the thing on him. He was pretty sure that Aizen wouldn't be letting him out if something went wrong. All the more reason to let Urahara test on him he supposed.

Of course, those thoughts inevitably lead back around to worries about the lack of contact with his inner world. He couldn't train without full use of his spirit power, and if he couldn't train then he couldn't be of any help. He thought about his Hollow, those fingers trailing over the bloody grass, the slide of skin on skin as the hand closed over his. It was unimaginable that the creature would willingly help him, but all the evidence seemed to suggest that's exactly what had happened. They were rivals, enemies whose primary goal was to beat the other into submission and hold him there with brute strength. He was supposed to hate him, and yet he couldn't seem to stop worrying.

There was a time when Ichigo would have given anything to be rid of the Hollow, to have him banished forever from the deepest regions of his soul. There was a time when everything about the creature made him sick, made him shake with a dread so deep that it chilled his bones. That time, it seemed, had passed. He needed his Hollow now, because only together did they possess the strength to face what he felt was coming. The Espada were frighteningly powerful, and so he needed to be as well. He wondered if by accepting this help he was bargaining away a piece of his soul. He wondered if knowing the answer would change his decision. He fell once again into silent worry.

**(*)**

Renji stifled a yawn as he made his way back to Urahara's, having just come off a particularly uneventful patrol. It was bad enough having to wander around for hours with Yumichika complaining about anything and everything, but it hadn't even been his turn in the first place. Ikkaku was scheduled go, but he'd swapped with Matsumoto's earlier shift because she'd wanted to do some shopping before the stores closed. Unfortunately, she seemed to forget that swapping meant she still had to patrol later because when Yumichika had shown up to retrieve her, she'd been rather sloshed. He'd taken one look at her lying in the middle of the floor, looking disheveled and happily clutching a half-empty sake bottle, and promptly declared that he absolutely refused to be seen with her.

He'd demanded that Hitsugaya go in her place, but he'd just come off patrol with Ikkaku and was looking forward to a break. He nudged his vice-captain once with his foot, looking just as put out as Yumichika when she burst into a fit of giggles. Sighing, he'd fished out his communicator to call Renji. Thus, the red haired shinigami found himself out patrolling with a rather put out Yumichika and no dinner. He could only hope that once Ichigo healed up they could establish some solid teams and a schedule that allowed him more than 30 seconds notice.

He sighed, wondering what Ichigo was up to. As he'd suspected, things had deteriorated fairly rapidly after Ichigo returned to his senses, and he hadn't stuck around long enough to see where the blame was going to land. It wasn't that he'd been scared, but Ichigo had refused to look at him and there had been a particularly interested gleam in Urahara's eye that didn't bode well for anyone's state of mind. Leaving seemed like the wisest course of action.

He figured that Ichigo was probably home by now, having been declared free to move, but he'd decided to return to Urahara's instead. He was starving and he wanted to grab something to eat, and possibly a shower, before he headed out again. Besides, he wanted to take his gigai over to Ichigo's when he went; it was easier to dress the thing there. He'd been taking a lot less shit about his clothes lately and he wasn't about to give it up, no matter how many half-assed threats Ichigo grumbled. He smirked to himself, figuring that if Ichigo really meant it he'd have punched him by now. He rounded the corner, still amused by his own line of reasoning, and found the boy in question sitting alone against the wall, illuminated by the moon and the light pouring through a nearby window.

He altered his course slightly, heading towards the figure who was still managing to look surly dressed in a pair of slightly too large hakama and wrapped in what looked suspiciously like one of Urahara's haori. Ichigo didn't look up as he approached, staring intently down at his hands, seemingly lost to the world. Renji stopped a couple of feet away, unsure if he should interrupt or just continue inside.

"Staring at me is kinda creepy, you know?" Ichigo muttered after a minute, still not bothering to look up.

"Thought ya might still be pissed," Renji supplied, eyeing the top of the orange head.

Ichigo tipped his head back and met the stare, looking like he was, indeed, still pissed. "You gonna stand there all night or do you wanna sit down?

Renji shrugged, pulling Zabimaru out of his sash and sliding down the wall next to the younger man. He rolled his shoulders to loosen the tension while Ichigo went back to staring at nothing. Renji drew up his knees, bracing his forearms against them so he could draw patterns in the dust with his zanpakutou.

"How was patrolling?" Ichigo finally broke the silence.

"Borin' as shit," Renji huffed. "But at least everyone's okay." He paused for a moment before adding, "Heard ya finished with Tessai."

"Yeah," Ichigo confirmed, "but Urahara said I have to stay in my body until tomorrow."

"Betcha can't wait to get back into the fight." Renji flashed him a grin.

Ichigo looked slightly uncomfortable, a frown playing between his brows. "Yeah."

"What's wrong?" Renji asked, his grin falling away.

Ichigo just shrugged. "I think I fucked Zangetsu up," he admitted.

"Is that all?" Renji dismissed his with a half wave. "Hell, I've broken Zabimaru more than once and he's fine. Just gotta let 'em heal up."

"That's what Urahara said," Ichigo scowled.

Renji just nodded sagely and went back to drawing in the dirt. After awhile he rolled his head back to look at his companion. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"

"When did you start asking permission?" Ichigo wondered out loud, cocking an eyebrow in his direction.

"It's called manners, dumbass." Renji rolled his eyes before falling serious again. "I was just wonderin' how the Arrancar got ya that day. I mean, I've tried ta kill ya a couple of times and it was fuckin' rough."

"No real mystery," Ichigo sighed, looking hard at the ground for a long moment. "I could barely feel it because it was hiding its reiatsu, and I wasn't really paying enough attention, cause I was thinking about something. One second I was looking over at the city, trying to figure out if I was actually feeling something and the next I had a big-ass spike in my chest."

"That's some scary shit," Renji muttered. "There was no sound or nothin'?"

"I didn't hear anything, but like I said, I was distracted." He sounded angry with himself. "Thing had me down before I even knew what was going on. Fucking sloppy."

Ichigo continued to scowl but Renji just shrugged. "Ain't nothin' you can do about it now, I guess, just gotta be more careful."

"That's it? You're not gonna call dumbass for getting jumped or anything?" Ichigo prompted but Renji just shrugged again.

"When the hell did you start handing out good advice?" Ichigo was still baffled by anything less than antagonistic Renji.

"I'm always full of good advice," Renji huffed. "You assholes just never shut the hell up long enough to hear it."

"…right" Ichigo didn't look convinced but Renji glared at him and he decided it wasn't worth the fight.

"So," Renji began, after a somewhat lengthy pause. "about the other thing…"

"What other thing?" Ichigo asked warily. He could think of a couple of things, neither of which he really wanted to talk about.

"About you havin' a…" He gesture vaguely at the ground, looking uncomfortable.

"A Hollow?" Ichigo supplied with a sigh.

"Yeah." Renji was looking away now, tension radiating off of him.

"What about it?" Ichigo asked, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall.

"I don't know. I mean, I heard Rukia mention it before but I guess I always thought it just stood for somethin'." He could hear Renji frowning, hear the hard edge in his voice. "Never stopped to think ya might actually _mean_ it."

"I'm not sure Rukia does either," he admitted. "It's not like she's seen it, just heard me talk."

Renji seemed to consider it all for a moment. "What's it like?" he finally asked, with a hint of genuine curiosity.

Ichigo was caught off guard, he'd expected more hostility, or at least more suspicion. "It's sorta like having another Zangetsu, except he spends most of his time plotting ways to overpower me and turn me into his own personal slave. It's a pain in the ass, really." He shrugged, but added, "Sorta came to an agreement lately, though, so I can use his power better."

"Sounds screwed up," Renji noted, still tense, but not painfully so. "He sounded like a bit of an asshole."

Ichigo nodded in agreement before he really processed the words. His head snapped around. "Wait, he talked to you? I thought you just saw him for a second?"

"I did." Renji turned to look at him finally. "He sorta just appeared, called me a fuckin' dumbshit, and then disappeared again."

Ichigo stared at him incredulously and Renji stared back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Ichigo finally just shook his head and ran a hand over his face before asking the question that had plagued him since the whole thing came up. "Did you tell Soul Society?"

There was a long pause in which Renji seemed lost in thought. "Didn't seem like their business," he admitted finally

Ichigo felt the knot in his stomach loosen and he turned to find the older man watching him. "It doesn't freak you out?"

"Hell yeah it freaks me out," Renji exclaimed, before collecting himself and continuing more quietly. "Ain't the first shit you pulled that freaked me out, though. I ain't gonna turn on ya just 'cause you're more fucked up than I thought."

He slipped sideways a couple of inches until their shoulders touched, and Ichigo felt relief flood through him. "I figured with Aizen and the whole Arrancar thing that it just might be too much."

"Ya ain't an Arrancar, you're a Vizard," Renji stated matter-of-factly, watching Ichigo's eyes widen in shock. "Kuchiki-taichou was reading about them after you saved Rukia," he supplied.

The younger man winced, waiting for the inevitable connection, which wasn't long in coming. Renji drew in a sharp breath, "Kuchiki-taichou knows?"

"Yeah, sorta," he admitted. "He saw part of my mask, once."

"Mask?" Renji was starting to sound concerned again, but he didn't move away.

"It's a long story, might as well start from the beginning." Ichigo closed his eyes again, "I guess it all started when you and Byakuya took Rukia and tried to kill me."

He talked slowly, going through his ordeal with Urahara, the constant fights for dominance with the Hollow, and even his training with the Vizard. Renji interjected questions here and there, but for the most part just listened. By the time Ichigo reached his encounter with the latest Arrancar he was leaning heavily into Renji, the fatigue from his still healing body and constant state of worry finally catching up. The older man slipped an arm around him to keep him in place, but Ichigo didn't seem to notice. When he finally fell into silence Renji shifted him so that his head was in his lap, just like he had on the first night they'd talked. He idly ran his fingers through the unruly hair, staring out into the darkness lost in thought. It was a lot to take in.

Ichigo stirred slightly. "You're not afraid of me?" he murmured, his voice tired and young.

"Don't be a fuckin' idiot." Renji continued to stroke his hair. "Wouldn't have let you sleep in my bed if I was afraid of you."

"Oh." His voice was soft. He was still again, and Renji thought he was asleep until he muttered something so quietly that the older man couldn't make it out.

"What?" he leaned over, bringing them closer together.

"I'm sorry I licked you," Ichigo whispered, lips barely moving.

Renji eyed him appraisingly, one brow quirking upward. "Liar," he accused softly, straightening up to lean against the wall once again. "You sure as hell didn't meant to do it, but I ain't buyin' that you're sorry."

Ichigo made no further reply and Renji returned to his thoughts, though this time he had a whole new problem to throw into the mix. Honestly, he didn't know if it was really a problem, because everything was pretty unfocused at the moment. He was just lumping it in as a precautionary move, because he liked to play the odds, and the odds generally leaned towards trouble. He sighed; fuck life and its fucking complicated shit.


	9. Crossroads

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Crossroads**

If Ichigo was sure of one thing it's that he wasn't awake, because if he had been then he might have been truly afraid. He was splayed out against the hard ground in an eerily familiar fashion, arms spread wide in helpless offering. There was no Arrancar this time, nor was there any pain, but a strange cold was seeping deep into his body, a numbness settling into his fingers and toes. He could feel his heart beating against his ribs, but with an unnerving flutter that made his chest feel tight. If it hadn't been for the clouds drifting to meet him through a sideways sky, he might have started to panic.

"You're pathetic, you know that, king?" a cold voice drawled next to his ear.

Ichigo twitched in surprise but didn't move away; he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd been caught off guard. Instead, he slowly turned his head in the direction of the voice, meeting the cool yellow eyes staring back at him. The Hollow was stretched out in the opposite direction, mirroring his pose, a poignant study of symmetry. He could feel the tickle of snowy hair against his arm, but didn't pull back.

"Where's Zangetsu?" he asked, noticing they were alone.

"Resting," the Hollow replied, looking indifferent.

"What happened to the two of you?" Ichigo gaze slid over the familiar face. "Are you alright?"

"Worried about me, king?" the Hollow mocked, though it was more subdued than usual.

"Did you do something to save me?" Ichigo jumped straight to the point. "Urahara says that you must, but it doesn't make sense."

"It's not the first time I've saved your pathetic ass," he muttered in disgust.

"Yeah." Ichigo eyed him suspiciously. "But all the other times you were trying to take over, weren't you?"

The hollow didn't respond, turning instead to stare at the sky.

Ichigo frowned. "I don't get it. You spend all this time talking shit about how you're going to crush me, but then you keep saving me. What the hell is your deal?"

"I didn't save you, I saved me." He flinched, an almost imperceptible shiver running through him. "What the fuck good is it to make yourself king if your damn horse dies and drags you down with it?" He turned back to Ichigo. "If you're gonna bitch about me not taking control, then fucking die slower next time."

"What did you do?" Ichigo repeated, ignoring the taunts.

For a moment it looked like he wasn't going to answer, but finally he let out a small sigh. "Zangetsu lent his power so that we could stop your body's functions. Sorta kept you in a state between life and death while I tried to reverse the damage." He shivered again. "Didn't work too well, we could barely keep a hold of you."

He slipped back into silence, a strange look flickering through his eyes for a second before it was gone. Ichigo frowned; unnerved by the Hollows passive demeanor, by the unusual lack of hostility. The air moved above him and he felt something skim his temple, a barely there touch that slipped back into his hair. His eyes widened. The Hollow had curled his arm up and was running his fingers over Ichigo's skin. It was too much; he sat up, knocking the arm away.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" he stared down into the unwavering yellow gaze.

"I fucking overextended myself to keep your sorry ass alive," he glared.

"Oh." Ichigo winced, unable to suppress a feeling of guilt. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Don't go all soft on me, king," the Hollow sneered. "If I wasn't so damn tired right now I'd beat your ass for being stupid enough to get jumped in the first place. You didn't even put up a fight."

"There was no warning," Ichigo retorted, relieved by the familiar, sharp tone.

"Pathetic excuses," the Hollow assured him, returning to his study of the sky.

Ichigo held his tongue, partly because he secretly agreed, but also because he didn't want to argue with an opponent who was obviously still weakened. He took a deep, calming breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to dispel the phantom touch still lingering there.

"Look, I just came to find out if you and Zangetsu were okay," Ichigo muttered uncomfortably. "And to thank you, I guess."

"Shit, don't thank me; it makes me feel dirty." Yellow eyes snapped back around and he looked like he might be sick. "It's like pathetic is contagious or something."

"Fine," Ichigo bit out. "Then I apologize for being stupid enough to get hurt and _forcing_ you to save yourself."

"That's better," the Hollow smirked. "But if you _really_ want to thank me, how about you bring Zabimaru around again. I was really getting a taste for the crazy-ass monkey and we haven't had a good fight since the redhead made you his bitch."

Ichigo choked, "What!"

"Don't go stupid on me," the Hollow snickered darkly. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Renji's a friend," Ichigo snapped, or at least tried to; it came out as more of a yelp. "We train together and stuff."

"That's bullshit and you know it." The Hollow pushed himself up on his elbows, leering at the young shinigami. "You can't lie to me; I'm in your fucking head."

"Shut up, bastard." Ichigo shot to his feet, taking a step back as though the Hollow were toxic. "You're just messing with me again and it's not going to work anymore."

Pale lips twisted in a grimace as the Hollow struggled to his feet, panting slightly and fixing Ichigo with an unreadable look. "Quit being such a bitch about everything, I'm sick of your whining."

"I'm not whining, asshole; I just came to see if you were okay." Ichigo took another step back when the Hollow took one forward.

"I didn't mean now, I meant all the time," he sneered, his voice turning high and mocking. _"Why can't I protect my friends? Why can't I sleep? Why can't I be stronger?_"

Ichigo felt the muscle in his jaw twitch as the Hollow drew closer, his smile turning malicious.

"How about _why can't I stop touching him_?" He reached out, his fingers barely grazing the side of Ichigo neck, causing the boy to flinch. "Or _why did I lick him?"_

"Don't touch me." Ichigo pulled back sharply, intent on putting distance between them, only to encounter a solid object at his back.

"That's enough." Zangetsu spoke to the Hollow over Ichigo's head, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I was playing nice," the Hollow smirked, dropping his hand back to his side.

"Old man?" Ichigo craned his neck, looking up at the imposing figure. "Are you okay?"

Zangetsu gave the pale figure a hard look before dropping his gaze to Ichigo. "I am well, do not concern yourself. I will be ready when the need arises."

Ichigo started to question him further but was cut off when Zangetsu stepped around him and approach the Hollow. Long, slender fingers slipped beneath the pale chin, drawing the yellow gaze upward, away from Ichigo.

"You should be resting, so that you will be ready as well," Zangetsu chided lightly, his eyes narrowing as another shiver passed through the smaller body.

"Always spoiling my fun," the Hollow complained, turning to face the larger man, cocking his head to one side

Zangetsu stared down at him passively, fingers slipping from his chin to curl around the back of his neck. Some sort of communication seemed to pass between them as they met the others gaze unblinking.

"Fine," the Hollow relented with a sigh. "Take me back."

He stepped forward, resting his forehead against Zangetsu's dark coat as the fingers trailed deeper into his snowy hair. An arm came up to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and he sighed again as his body started to disintegrate; melting into Zangetsu. He turned his head, gold eyes once again seeking Ichigo.

"At least it's not raining," he murmured, almost completely gone. "Hasn't rained since you started sleeping again."

Zangetsu's arms fell away and he stared into an empty hand for a moment, lost in some far away thought. He shook his head gently, turning to face Ichigo.

"He will be fine," he replied, in answer to the unspoken question. "He expended much of his energy to keep you alive, and he continued to do so until your healing was stabilized."

"Why?" Ichigo still didn't fully understand it.

"We both exist in this world to provide aid when the need arises." Zangetsu spoke slowly, frowning into the distance. "He has agreed to respect your authority for now, though his motives are his own and he does not share them freely."

Ichigo didn't know what to say to this, so he just moved on. "Why haven't I been able to reach you until now?"

"It was unnecessary." Zangetsu turned back towards him. "It was more important to conserve energy for your next battle than it was to ease whatever fears you were harboring."

"So it's necessary now?" Ichigo countered, feeling stung by the dismissal of his worry.

"It is not," Zangetsu informed him stoically, "However, your anxiety was becoming uncomfortable, and _he_ expressed an interest in bringing you here."

"Why?" Ichigo narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I am unsure." Zangetsu met his gaze steadily.

"Aren't you two supposed to be connected somehow? He told me he _was_ you at one point," Ichigo pressed. "Shouldn't you know what he's thinking?"

"We are both a part of you," Zangetsu reminded him. "Under your logic, you should also have insight into his reasoning, and yet you are as blind as I."

Ichigo huffed, folding his arms across his chest; he could tell the old man wouldn't be more forthcoming. "When will I be able to fight as a shinigami?" he asked after a moment.

"I have recovered sufficiently to aid you in battle, though it would be unwise to draw on your Hollow abilities at this point," Zangetsu reported placidly.

"You'll tell me when it's safe." It wasn't really a question.

"I will," Zangetsu replied anyway before a slight frown marred his brow. "I believe it is time for you to go."

Ichigo would have asked him what he meant but a shriek pierced the fog of his consciousness and he felt the world lurch. He sat up, one hand fisting against his chest and the other lashing out wildly towards the sound. His alarm clock crashed to the floor, falling blissfully quiet as the batteries rolled free.

**(*)**

He'd seriously considered not going to school, but he'd already missed a fair number of days and this was his last chance to pick up his homework before the weekend. It really hadn't turned out that bad; most people were so used to his frequent absences that it passed without notice. He missed Rukia though, because without her there to poke him he'd managed to doze off three times, only to be jolted awake by a sharp word from the teacher.

When the final bell sounded he left the building feeling almost normal. His talk with Zangetsu and his Hollow hadn't cleared up everything, but he still felt a lot better. There was an itch settling between his shoulders, which he associated with the need to be active, and after Zangetsu's assurances he couldn't resist. Technically, he knew he wasn't supposed to be wandering alone, but he figured if he stayed relatively close to either his home or Urahara's he should be okay. Besides, he would be paying attention this time.

Dropping his books on his desk, he pulled the substitute badge from his pocket, grinning down at it. He hesitated for only a moment before pressing it to his chest. There was the brief, familiar tug, a bit more painful this time, and then he felt the wonderful freedom as he left his body behind. He fought back the urge to shout out loud, conscious that Karin might be home to hear him. Instead, he quietly shoved his body into bed, opened the window, and hopped out into the fresh air.

He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, enjoying the familiar weight of Zangetsu on his back. The tension in his muscles seemed to fall away as he came to rest on an unmarked building a couple of blocks from Urahara's. Being a shinigami was as much a part of his life as breathing, and his concerns over the potential loss of that had weighed him down more than he'd realized. He felt lighter than he had since he'd woken from his near death.

He wondered briefly what Renji was up to. He figured the older man must have dropped him off that morning before heading out on patrol. He sighed to himself; he really needed to learn to sleep lighter. Unfortunately, his thoughts brought back the echo of the Hollow's taunts, and he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He shook his head to dispel the memory; the whole thing was screwed up enough without adding someone else's opinion into the mix.

"What are you doing out here?" A familiar voice brought his head around as Matsumoto approached.

"Just making sure everything still works." He gave her a half smile which she returned with a grin of her own.

"You're not supposed to be alone." Hitsugaya landed beside his vice-captain.

"Relax, Toushirou, I'm not going far." Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"It's Hitsugaya-taichou," he informed his stiffly. "And that's not the point."

"Well you're here now, so it's not a big deal," Ichigo pointed out easily.

"It's dangerous, Kurosaki," Hitsugaya speared him with a rather sharp look. "You of all people should know that."

"I _do_ know that, Toushirou," Ichigo assured him, his smile turning hard. "I have no intention of making the same mistake twice."

Hitsugaya let the name slide, staring up at him for a moment before returning his gaze to the skyline. "I saw you that day," he said softly. "I have no desire to see anything like that again."

Ichigo sighed, rolling his neck. He didn't have any response for something like that.

"The captain can be a little hard to understand sometimes," Matsumoto whispered, her voice carrying easily. "I think he actually kind of admires you. He's just worried."

Hitsugaya growled low in his throat, choosing to ignore both her and Ichigo, who biting down on a smirk.

"See." Matsumoto apparently found some confirmation in the sound, because she was still smiling. "That's how you know he cares."

"Do you ever just stop and listen to yourself?" Hitsugaya pressed his fingers into his temples, thoroughly exasperated.

"Are you saying that you _weren't_ worried about Ichigo-kun?" she asked, wide eyed and innocent.

"That's beside the point," he snapped. "You shouldn't be talking about me like I'm not here. I'm your captain, show some respect."

"But I always respect you, captain," she whined, reaching out as if to hug him. "You're the sweetest, more adorable captain in all of Seireitei."

"Gah." He slapped her hands away. "This is what I'm talking about."

Ichigo smiled as the argument heated up. He dropped carefully down on the edge of the roof and stared out over the city, letting it all wash over him. Even with the dull throb of a headache, courtesy of his still unstable reiatsu, and the constant bickering of the mismatched pair beside him, this all just felt right.

**(*)**

Ichigo stared moodily at the dark ceiling, the familiar restlessness crawling up his spine. He'd stayed with Hitsugaya and Matsumoto until the end of their patrol, but they'd insisted that he return home to rest after that. The young captain had said he would add him to the rotation in the next day or two, but only after he'd promised to stay inside after they left. He was regretting that promise now.

He'd finished all of his homework in a three hour fit of boredom, and was almost wishing his teachers weren't quite as understanding, because now he had nothing to do. He'd gone through a series of exercises, but had to call it quits when a throbbing had developed in his right arm that just wouldn't go away. No one was going to let him out any time soon if he injured himself again. He'd resigned himself to another night of staring at the ceiling and wishing he was anywhere else but there.

He tried not to think about sleeping, because those thoughts led to ones of Renji and he was feeling a bit uncomfortable with that topic at the moment. He wouldn't admit it, but he was a little nervous about seeing the other man again. He'd still been hovering at the edge of consciousness when he'd apologized for the licking incident, and he was fairly certain he remembered the other man rejecting his statement. It made him uneasy because he didn't know why Renji would think he wasn't sorry. He hadn't wanted to lick him. It was a misunderstanding.

He rolled over to face the wall. He needed a better excuse and he knew it. He wanted to blame his drug-altered state, but it somehow felt wrong. He was pretty sure that he wouldn't have been _licking_ anyone if he'd been in full control of himself, but his fascination with the tattoos had started well before that point. He buried his face in his pillow to muffle his groan of frustration. There had to be some sort of demon magic at work, there just had to be.

He heard the soft scrape of his window sliding open but didn't move, childishly hoping that to ignore the presence would somehow make it not real. This, of course, failed and a moment later he heard the soft pad of feet on carpet as the intruder crossed the room.

"If you're tryin' to pretend you're asleep then ya really suck at it," Renji pointed out helpfully from somewhere near his head.

Ichigo turned, finding him crouched by the bed, lit by the nearly full moon. "I wasn't."

"So what are ya doin', then?" Renji cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I was thinking," he huffed, turning fully onto his side.

"Uh-huh." Renji sat back on the floor, his eyes narrowed. "Heard you were patrolling by yourself today."

Ichigo bristled slightly. "I wasn't doing anything dangerous."

"Everything's dangerous right now," Renji scowled. "Ya want to get your ass hurt again?"

"I was careful," he snapped, sitting up to glare at him. "I can take care of myself; I don't need someone looking over my shoulder all the time."

"Yeah, that's how ya got stabbed into the ground, dumbass," Renji reminded him harshly.

"That wasn't my fault." Ichigo ran an agitated hand through his hair. "The same thing could have happened to anyone."

"No," Renji countered, rolling forward onto his knees and planting his hands on the bed. "If it was anyone else they'd be dead. You got a second chance, don't fuckin' waste it."

Ichigo gritted his teeth. "I just needed to get out of here. I've been locked up for days."

"I get it, ya know I do." Renji shook his head. "But Aizen's got some crazy shit out there and any one of us could be next. You can't take it personal that we have to be more careful."

"I know," he muttered irritably.

Renji slumped forward onto his elbows, resting his face in his palms. "I don't blame you for bein' restless, I'd be if I were you."

"Yeah, well Toushirou says I can join the rotation soon, so that should help." Ichigo shrugged moodily.

"Just don't go out by yourself again, okay?" Renji sounded tired.

Ichigo didn't bother to respond; they both knew he'd already agreed. "Is that where you're coming from?"

"Yeah, I was out with Hitsugaya. He's been coverin' a lotta extra shifts while you recover." Renji crossed his arms on the edge of the bed, resting his chin on them.

"And I suppose he sent you here to keep an eye on me." Ichigo lay back against his pillow, staring at the ceiling.

"Sorta," Renji confirmed, before adding, "I woulda come anyway."

Ichigo ignored the last comment. "I already promised him I wouldn't go out; I don't need someone to watch me?"

"He trusts you…mostly." Renji smirked at him, "I think he just felt better knowin' you had someone here with you. Nothin' says an Arrancar can't come after ya while you're sleepin'."

"I guess," Ichigo conceded.

They stayed like that for awhile before Renji finally stirred, sitting back and rolling his shoulders. He reached up, untying his hair and shaking it free. Ichigo watched it settle around his face and down his back, wondering how he managed to change his appearance so drastically though one simple act. He stood, still raking his fingers through the crimson mass, and started to undress. Ichigo turned back towards the ceiling.

"Ya have anything I could sleep in?" Renji asked. "These ain't really that comfortable."

It was bright enough to make out the other man already digging through one of his drawers, wearing nothing but his hakama. As he turned, Ichigo caught a flash of skin from the gaps at his hips, wondering both why he was noticing it and why he hadn't before.

He rolled out of bed and padding over to the dresser, pointedly ignoring the cascade of hair that was shifting to reveal glimpses of tattooed flesh. He pushed Renji's hands aside, digging through the drawer himself and coming up with a pair of nondescript, cotton shorts. He wore them to sleep sometimes and he supposed the height difference didn't matter with shorts. He handed them to the other man and returned to bed.

Renji changed quickly and Ichigo scooted over to make room as he approached. He stopped a few feet away, bending down to shake out his clothes before tossing them over a chair. He stood, turning a slow circle.

"Lose something?" Ichigo eyed him curiously.

"The tie I use for my hair," Renji confirmed. "I only set it down for a minute."

"Maybe you left it in the drawer," he suggested.

Renji pawed back through the contents, but in the dim light it was hard to make out anything in the confined space. He gave up, digging through the clothes on the chair once again.

"Fuckin' things get lost all the time," he complained, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Don't suppose you have something I could use."

"Yeah, cause I have so much extra hair." Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"Smartass," Renji smirked.

"You could turn on the light," Ichigo pointed out.

"Not worth it," he shrugged. "Just try not to drool on it."

Ichigo snorted and faced the wall as Renji settled in behind him. He was a little surprised when the other man didn't immediately invade his space and glance over his shoulder revealed that Renji had his back to him. Ichigo shrugged mentally, pulling his blanket more securely around him.

Renji made no attempt to strike up further conversation and Ichigo drifted back into his thoughts. He knew he was going to have to talk to Renji about this shit eventually, because it was wearing him down and he'd found no answers on his own. The problem was that he really didn't _want_ to talk about it, because it was uncomfortable and confusing, neither of which he dealt with very well. It was situations like this that always lead to Renji accusing him of acting all _girly_. He hated that.

He sighed, rolling over to face Renji, careful to avoid the pool of hair spread out behind him. He frowned, trying to simultaneously quell both the Hollows words, which were still dancing through his thoughts, and the shiver that that was crawling up his spine. Renji was a friend, albeit a strange one, and he wasn't such a coward that he had to run every time something happened that he didn't understand. He could be rational and control himself. He launched into his new mantra: _I will not touch the tattoos._

Unfortunately, far from helping to put his mind at ease, this just seemed to remind him that he did, in fact, _want_ to touch the tattoos. He clenched his jaw, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He dragged his eyes away from Renji's back and stared into the hair falling haphazardly between them.

It was an interesting color, darkened by the shadows of the room until it resembled a fine wine. Ichigo wondered if it was as soft as it looked and immediately glowered at himself for the thought. He'd definitely been cooped up for too long. Still, the thought refused to go away, and there was something so intriguing about the vivid splash of color over the bare skin. They'd already established Renji didn't mind being touched, and the temptation was making his palm itch.

Ichigo reached out, his fingers barely making contact; skimming hesitantly over the surface like he was afraid of being burned. He pulled back, uncertain, but Renji gave no indication that he'd even felt the feather light touch. His fingers slipped forward again, dipping into the hair against the other man's neck, testing the texture between his thumb and forefinger. This was okay, Renji had done this to him more than once, he was just returning the gesture.

He dragged his fingers through the strands and Renji settled deeper into the pillow, sighing softly. He ran his fingers over his scalp, digging his nails in slightly like he'd felt the other man do on occasion. Renji let out a little sound of encouragement and Ichigo smirked, raking the full length of his hair, pausing briefly to separate a tangle he found. There was something soothing about the feel of the locks between his fingers; he could see why Renji did this.

Emboldened by his discoveries, he brushed the hair back from the other man's temple, tucking it behind his ear and tracing softly along the lobe. He pressed deeper, grazing the skin of his throat as he stroked downward. Renji shivered, tilting his chin away, opening himself further to the soft caress.

Ichigo felt something flutter in his stomach, a panicky kind of exhilaration that made him feel lightheaded. He slid back through the hair, running his fingers gently along the curve of Renji's neck. The redhead shifted, releasing a breath he'd been holding, and Ichigo felt drawn to the sound. It was intoxicating, the feel of the hair, the skin, the subtle responses.

His hand slipped lower, tracing across his shoulder, lost in the feel of the warmth beneath his fingers. His arm began to tremble and he could feel his heart pounding in his throat. He dug into the vibrant hair, sweeping it aside to reveal the curve of the spine beneath moon lit skin. Before he had time to think, let alone consider the repercussions, he leaned forward to press his lips against the tantalizing flesh.

Renji sucked in a breath through his teeth, his shoulders tensing, and Ichigo pulled back quickly. He pushed himself up, trying to see the other man's face, biting his lip as he realized what he'd just done. Renji turned slowly, rolling onto his back and staring up at him in question.

"What do you think you're doin' now?" he murmured, eyes glittering in the semi-darkness.

"I don't know," Ichigo breathed, wondering if he looked as confused as he sounded.

"I think you do," Renji accused softly.

He reached up, his fingers brushing across Ichigo's jaw; thumb tracing the corner of his mouth, dragging his lip down. Ichigo felt his heart slam painfully into his ribs, his breath catching somewhere in his throat. The fingers slid further back to tease the hair at his nape, sending a little shiver through him. Renji lifted himself on one elbow, brow twitching slightly as he met Ichigo's wide eyed stare.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo whispered, because he didn't know what else to say.

"Liar," Renji smirked, cupping the back of his head, tangling his fingers in the bright orange hair.

When Renji pulled him down he didn't resist, uncertainty and shock paralyzing his system. He felt Renji's breath ghost across his cheek, and then there was a brush of lips against his own, barely there before they were gone. The other man pulled back, studying him through half lowered lashes, looking for something that he must have found because a second later he was back.

Renji's lips were soft against his, stroking gently, pliant and warm. Ichigo's mind reeled, unsure of how to respond, unpracticed and untested. Renji's lips parted slightly and his tongue traced the seam of the younger man's mouth, questioning, inviting. Ichigo gasped, eyes fluttering closed, responding on instinct as he reached out to brush his own tongue against the would-be intruder. Timid at first, and then growing bolder, they danced slowly together.

Renji wrapped an arm around his waist, falling back against the bed and taking Ichigo with him. He tightened his hold, pulling him closer, pressing into Ichigo's mouth to explore him further. Ichigo felt his head start to spin, an ache settling in his chest and spreading out through his limbs. He pulled back, panting heavily against Renji's mouth, feeling slightly dizzy.

"What the fuck?" he mumbled roughly, trying to catch his breath.

"Gotta breathe through your nose, dumbass." He could feel the redhead smirk against his lips.

"Oh." That wasn't what he meant, but it made sense as well, and there was no more time for thought because Renji was kissing him again.

He reached down to bury his fingers in Renji's hair, pulling him up as their tongues slid together. Renji nipped at his lower lip, drawing it into his mouth and Ichigo shuddered against him. Teeth sank gently into the soft flesh and a trembling noise rose in the back of his throat, his fingers tightening in the silky locks.

Renji bit back a growl, rolling to pin Ichigo to the bed, his hair a curtain around them both. His hands came up to frame the Ichigo's face, thumbs tracing his cheekbones. The kiss turned heavier, needier, and Ichigo felt his heart flutter in his chest as panic began to rise. Renji must have felt it, too, because a second later he was gone, flipping onto his back next to the younger man, his breathing ragged and uneven.

"Sorry," he muttered, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Ichigo opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out so he closed it again. He pressed two fingers to his lips, finding them still damp and slightly swollen.

"What the hell just happened?" He hated the tremor he could hear in his voice.

"Ya ain't stupid, I'm pretty sure you can figure it out," Renji drawled, his hands still over his eyes.

"That's not…you know…what the _fuck _just happened!" Ichigo sat up, scooting away until his back hit the wall.

"It's okay, Ichigo, relax." Renji rolled onto his side, frowning but making no move to reach for him.

"It's not okay," Ichigo snapped

"Yes it is," Renji assured him calmly, brushing the long hair back from his face.

"No." Ichigo's eyes were wide. "I like girls!"

"So?" Renji looked genuinely perplexed.

"What do you mean _so_?" Ichigo looked at him incredulously. "You're not a girl!"

"Figure that one out all by yourself?" the redhead snorted, propping his head up on his fist and cocking an eyebrow as the younger man. "Why does likin' girls mean ya can't kiss a guy?"

"Because it does." Ichigo needed to be somewhere else. "That's like _bi_ or something."

"See, they even have a word for it." Renji looked vaguely amused and Ichigo scowled at him.

"I'm not bisexual," he hissed, his eyes flickering towards the still open window.

"Ya sure about that?" Renji's tone was dry.

"Yes!" Ichigo snapped reflexively before frowning at himself. "Well…I…Damnit!" He tried to roll out of bed but Renji caught hold of his arm.

"Don't go runnin' off again." He pulled him back down.

"Just let me go." He sounded like he had the morning before the attack and Renji frowned, refusing to let him go this time.

"Stop it," he snapped when Ichigo tried to pull away again, and they both fell still.

They stared hard at each other for a moment as Ichigo fought the urge to struggle, reminding himself about all the shit he'd promised. Renji sighed, releasing him when it became apparent that he wouldn't attempt to bolt.

"You should try to get some sleep, think about this shit when you're not freakin' out." He sat up, bringing them back to eye level. "You want me to go?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," Ichigo answered honestly. "I just…how can you be so calm about this? Are you…?" He made a vague gesture with his hand.

"I never really thought about it before." Renji shrugged. "And I ain't exactly calm," he admitted, looking thoughtful. "I guess you just stop worryin' so much about shit that can't kill you, after a certain point."

Ichigo winced, reminded that, despite appearances, Renji was probably at least four or five times his age. He suddenly felt very young and very out of his element; he dropped his eyes to the bed.

"Do you want me to leave?" Renji asked him again.

"No," Ichigo mumbled, almost inaudibly.

Renji reached out to tip his chin up with the backs of his fingers, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Sorry 'bout all this."

"It's not your fault." Ichigo slid down against the mattress, turning to face the wall again. "I started it."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have pushed you." Renji slipped in behind him, careful to keep a space between them.

Ichigo was silent for a long time, battling through his confusion and fear. If he was honest with himself, he'd seen something like this coming, there had been a certain amount of warning, after all. He had just never decided what he thought about it, having spent far too much time running and too little time actually thinking. He supposed this was the price of his cowardice. Gods, his head felt like it was going to explode from all the conflicting emotion.

He tensed when something brushed against the back of his neck, trailing upwards along his scalp. He let out a breath as Renji reached forward, dragging his fingers through the front of his hair.

"You're gonna fuckin' break your teeth if ya don't relax." Renji spoke softly in the darkness.

Ichigo let his eyes slip closed as the fingers continued to sooth away his tension. He could feel Renji's hair drifting against his shoulder, and knew the other man was watching his face. He knew that he was worried, and he wanted to say something reassuring to let him know that he'd be okay, but nothing came to mind. He let himself unwind under the skilled touch.

"Renji?" he whispered after several long moments.

"Hm?" Renji stroked a finger behind his ear.

"It wasn't…" He licked his lips, feeling the blush creeping into his face. "It wasn't bad," he admitted.

Renji chucked softly, shifting closer and wrapping his arm around his waist. "Go to sleep, Ichigo," he murmured against the back of his neck.

"Yeah," he agreed softly, settling back against the warm other body. The arm around him tightened fractionally and he let his breathing even out. He had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be a bitch, but for now, he supposed this was okay.


	10. Resolve

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Resolve**

Renji had certainly known his fair share of problems in his life to that point. He'd grown up in a rough neighborhood, with no one to look out for him except the other kids in his gang. He'd struggled with feelings of inadequacy and a need to prove his worth all through his time at the academy, leading to feelings of alienation from most of his class. He'd turned on one of his only true friends, sending her off to face judgment for the sake of laws he didn't even understand. Then, realizing the gravity of the situation, he'd changed his mind, defied everything believed in and nearly died as a traitor at his own captain's hands. He'd fought his friends, befriended his enemies, and wreaked enough havoc that at times he wasn't even sure what the hell was going on anymore.

The defection of three captains from Seireitei had turned the world he knew upside down, leaving pain, confusion, and general panic in its wake. Now they had to deal with the Arrancar, who seemed unrealistically powerful, and the _new_ Arrancar, who were a complete mystery but certainly no _less _deadly. No one was safe, and with the threat of war looming just around the corner, it wasn't promising to look any better tomorrow.

Staring up at the ceiling, Renji realized that things had very nearly reached the limit of _fucked_, which was exactly why he didn't need any more complicated shit in his life at the moment. Unfortunately, this didn't seem to stop him from doing things that were guaranteed to add further difficulty to his world. The problem was that he wasn't a great fan of thinking things through, at least not before going right ahead and doing them. Hindsight was a bitch sometimes.

He really had started out with the best intentions; he'd been genuinely worried about the kid when he saw how he was tearing himself apart with his concern for his friends. He'd never been very good at being supportive or understanding, which was why he rarely bothered to try, but something about Ichigo spoke to him like a kindred spirit, and so he'd given it a shot. He'd been surprised to discover that sleeping next to him actually seemed beneficial to both of them, but he'd just gone with it because he could use the rest as well. Plus, there'd been the added bonus of watching him get all riled about the whole thing, which had always been amusing.

Somewhere along the line, he'd recognized the potential for things to get out of hand, but he hadn't been worried about it. A few stray touches here and there, a little fascination with his tattoos, it was all just harmless. He actually kind of liked it; he'd always enjoyed being touched, but it was hard to find someone that he trusted enough to allow that close. It hadn't meant anything, at least nothing serious.

It was after Ichigo almost died that he started to notice the shift in the atmosphere, though it was hard to pin down what it really meant. Glances that seemed to suggest just a little more than they should, a touch that lingered a second too long, little things. Then there was the licking, which had been replaying in his mind since the moment it happened, a tingly little warning that he tried to brush away. What the hell was he supposed to do, sit around and think about it until he gave himself a headache? Not likely. When those fingers brushed his hair aside so that warm lips could press against his skin he'd just reacted, doing what felt right without considering the consequences.

It wasn't that he regretted kissing Ichigo, he simply realized, in retrospect of course, that it was going to add an entirely new dimension of shit to his mountain of problems. Nothing said complicated like kissing a human-shinigami _teenager_, who also happened to possess Hollow abilities, _and_ insisted that he didn't like men. He sighed, looking down at the disheveled orange head currently pillowed against his chest. Ichigo had been pretending to be asleep for the past five minutes, undoubtedly planning some sort of escape. Yeah, this was going great.

He settled an arm more firmly around Ichigo as he started to edge backwards, moving really slowly like he hoped no one could see him. "It's early, stop squirmin' an' go back to sleep," he ordered softly, already knowing what the response would be.

Predictably, Ichigo tensed, his head tipping back until their eyes met. "Let go of me."

Renji smirked down at him, amending his previous thoughts: Maybe this was _still_ amusing, even if it _was_ trouble. He'd never met anyone who could scowl that menacingly while wearing the telltale signs of a blush across their nose. "Ain't my fault ya like sleepin' on me. I didn't haul you over here." He just couldn't resist.

Ichigo lifted his head to achieve a better glaring angle, the blush seeping into his cheeks. "Fucking quit that and let me go," he hissed, his eyes flashing.

Renji's brow furrowed in confusion before he realized that he was once again tracing circles over Ichigo's hipbone with his thumb. He stilled, letting his hand fall away; he hadn't been doing it intentionally, he just enjoyed the tickle of friction under his fingertips. Ichigo pulled away as soon as he was free, sitting up and backing into the wall like he had the night before.

"You're freakin' out again," Renji pointed out helpfully, rolling the shoulder that had been pinned by the other body.

"I am _not_" the younger man bit out, burying his face in his hands.

"What's wrong?" he asked curiously, pushing himself up on his elbows and shaking his hair back.

"What the fuck do you think is wrong?" Ichigo dragged one hand away from his face so that he could continue to glare.

"How the hell should I know?" He stared right back at him. "Ya got a whole lot of human shit ya seem to be worried about." He shrugged. "I can't keep it all straight."

"Human shit?" Ichigo's attention was momentarily diverted.

"Yeah," Renji cocked his head to one side, as if trying to put his thoughts into words. "Guys ain't really my thing, but it's not a big deal in Soul Society, so it's just a bit weird. Ain't worth freakin' out over."

"But you kissed another _guy_" Ichigo stared incredulously. "You kissed _me!_"

"So?" Renji didn't bother to point out that Ichigo had technically kissed him first. "What the hell is panickin' gonna do about it?"

"I'm not panicking," Ichigo snapped. "I'm just…shit!"

"It ain't a big deal," Renji assured him again.

"Yes it is! You can't just say that guys are your _thing_ now, and have everything be okay!" Ichigo's anxiety level was rising, his reiatsu fluttering around him. Renji's brows drew together in a slight frown.

"I didn't say guys were my new thing, and I told ya it was kinda weird, but…" He arched a tattooed eyebrow, a smirk lifting the corner of his lips. "I've seen worse," he teased.

Ichigo made a sound somewhere between indignation and horror. "I'm not gay!"

"I thought you said it was called _bi,__" _Renji pointed out, pushing into a sitting position, the blanket pooling around his waist.

"I'm not _bi!_" Ichigo was scowling and blushing again, backing away to give Renji more room.

"Uh-huh." Renji eyed him skeptically. "See, that's the human shit I was talkin' about. It's like you don't have enough problems so ya had to make up these dumbass categories so ya have somethin' else to bitch about. I can't even figure out what the hell half of it means, it's like it ain't got no purpose except to give you more reason to freak out. Don't got anythin' to do with what kind of person you are, or how strong you are, or anythin' else that matters. It's just bullshit. "

"It's not bullshit," Ichigo protested, forgetting his embarrassment in favor of an argument. "You gotta have some way to describe yourself, dumbass."

"But it's stupid, and it don't make a difference either way." Renji rolled his eyes as he climbed out bed, stretching until his back popped. "Who the hell wants to spend eternity havin' a lame-ass crisis every time they catch themselves checkin' out another guy?"

"But I _don't_ check out guys!" Ichigo pointed out, wondering how in the hell he always managed to get into the weirdest arguments.

"That's cause ya ain't lived long enough," Renji informed him wisely.

"What the hell are you talking about? Getting old doesn't turn you gay!" Ichigo blinked at him, completely lost. "Besides, you're not _that_ old either."

"Which is why I said it's weird for me, too." Renji looked smug, like this somehow validated his point.

Ichigo just continued to stare at him as though he'd lost his mind, his eyes edging towards the door like he was planning another escape attempt.

Renji sighed, trying to finger comb his hair back into some semblance of order. This wasn't going well; attempts to distract Ichigo tended to lead to arguments about weird shit, followed by one or both of them looking completely confused. It was usually fairly amusing, but today it didn't seem to be the best option.

"Look, I already said I was sorry," Renji muttered, stepping out of his borrowed shorts as he picked up his discarded clothing. "I ain't gonna do anythin' ya don't want, so don't worry about it."

"But you want to." The words sounded like accusation but the tone was merely confused as Ichigo dropped his gaze, twisting the blanket between his hands.

"Who the fuck knows." Renji shrugged again, wrapping layers around himself and staring at the top of Ichigo's head. "Sorta just happened, wasn't really thinkin' about it at the moment."

"Oh," Ichigo frowned, his reiatsu fluttering uncomfortably. "I shouldn't have…I'm sorry about-"

He was startled out of his embarrassed muttering when something bounced off of his leg and landed next to his hand. He recognized his substitute badge and picked it up, eyes darting to Renji in question.

"You've been stuck inside too damn long, it's messin' with your head." The other man crossed his arms over his chest, staring at him expectantly.

Ichigo looked between Renji and the badge once again. "But I-"

"Ya wanna sit here all day talkin' about your girly-ass feelings, or do ya wanna go to Urahara's and try to beat the shit out of me?" Renji cocked an eyebrow in challenge, knowing that the conversation was going nowhere. "Hitsugaya-taichou ain't gonna let you patrol 'til you prove you can handle it," he prodded.

Ichigo frowned for one more second before his face cleared. He most certainly did _not_ want to talk about this, especially since he didn't really understand it. He hopped out of bed, rifling through his closet for something to wear. He could think about this shit later…maybe when he was dying again.

"I have to take my body, my family might come in and I don't know where the hell Kon is right now," he informed the redhead, nearly stumbling in his haste to be dressed and out of there.

"Fine." Renji gave a longsuffering sigh. "But hurry your ass up, it's going to be slow enough having to walk there without shunpo."

"Shut your damn mouth," Ichigo snapped, digging a pair of shoes out of his closet. "I'm ready to go."

Renji snorted and headed for the window, Ichigo following closely behind. They fell into step as soon as their feet hit the grass, walking in just slightly uncomfortable silence. It wasn't completely normal, but it was certainly better than sitting around and thinking.

**(*)**

Ichigo was having trouble concentrating as his head spun under the weight of his confusion, pestering him with snippets of memories and illogical, half-formed thoughts. He was trying to push everything aside, to brush it all off as easily as Renji had seemed to do, but he was finding the task nearly impossible.

Being a creature of action, and not prone to long examinations of his personal feelings, he hadn't given a lot of thought over the years to what his first real kiss would be like. He'd always figured that it was one of those things that just happened, like learning to walk, or getting pounced on by your crazy-ass father at every turn. He figured he'd just deal with it when it came along. That being said, he was fairly sure that _this_ wasn't what he would have pictured, even if he'd taken the time to think about it properly. In fact, this was about as far as possible from anything he'd ever imagined about himself.

He'd never given any thought to being attracted to men, other than the somewhat unfounded assurance in his head that he simply _wasn't._ Admittedly, he hadn't really given that much thought to being attracted to _anyone_ because even before he was a human shinigami charged with saving the world, he'd been a surly, spirit-sensitive teen plagued by unwanted thug problems. That was enough to keep a person busy.

He'd managed to find excuses for most of the oddities in his recent sleeping arrangements, tattoo fascinations, and willingness to being touched. The parts he hadn't been able to explain he'd simply ignored, or tired to ignore. It had been getting increasingly more difficult to overlook the fact that he actually seemed to _like _having another body so close that he could hear a second heartbeat, feel the slide of skin under his fingers, catch the sighs falling from gently parted lips. He shook his head sharply, scowling at the wayward thoughts.

Of course, no matter how hard he scowled, there was no ignoring the fact that he'd kissed the back of Renji's neck, or that he'd responded when the redhead leaned up to capture his lips. He'd been momentarily lost in the taste and feel of the tongue moving over his, and the hair sliding between his fingers. His bit back a groan of frustration and swore that could hear his Hollow's snicker burning across his mind.

He barely managed to pull himself from his thoughts in time to deflect Zabimaru, sending him careening into a nearby rock face and pelting the area with debris. Renji landed a few feet away, pulling the blades back in a tight arc and lashing out at him again. Ichigo dodged to the side, slipping along the outstretched attack but the other man was already moving, launching himself skyward once again.

"You're too slow today," Renji taunted, whipping Zabimaru down to score the sand where Ichigo had just stood. "Ain't ya healed yet?"

"I'm fine," Ichigo growled, launching a fierce assault as if to prove that fact.

Renji allowed himself to be driven back with a wild laugh, a grin spreading across his face. "That's more like it; I was beginning to think that Arrancar had broken your _resolve_."

Ichigo bristled at the mocking edge in his voice. "Getsuga Tenshou!" He fired a blast of blue energy after the redhead.

Renji barely got out of the way in time, hitting the ground hard and skidding back on one knee.

"It's about time you put up a good fight." Renji was still grinning and Ichigo felt the tingle of exertion stir his own responding smirk.

They flew at each other again, slashing and spinning, the power singing in their veins. It had been awhile since Ichigo last enjoyed the thrill of battle without the serious edge of something trying to kill him. He felt some of his tension slip away as they crashed together, vying for dominance, grinning at each other with wild abandon.

Ichigo wasn't sure how long they went on like this, too lost in the glow of finally being active to care. Renji had his bankai out, coiling and striking at him, blasting waves of fiery energy until the ground was a mess of charred debris. Ichigo crouched at the bottom of a shallow crater, panting as the sweat rolled down his neck, watching his opponent circle above. He surged upwards as Renji closed in, swinging Zangetsu to face the other man, his eyes glittering defiantly.

"Bankai!" he roared, feeling his reiatsu surge around him.

A slight chill ran up his spine as pain rippled out from his chest. It wasn't a persistent felling, just a flutter across his nerves as the full weight of his power pulled free, but it was enough to throw him off. He landed with a grunt, managing to keep his feet, but staggering slightly against the shift of the sand. He shook his head, trying to clear the strange tingling in his blood.

He felt the air move and brought Zangetsu up in time to block Zabimaru as Renji snaked an arm around from behind. The attack lacked real power, though, and he felt another arm slip around his waist, holding him to the body pressed against his back. He didn't pull away, too accustomed to the contact to notice in his slightly agitated state.

"What's wrong?" Renji voice was concerned, hovering somewhere just above his ear.

"Nothing," Ichigo muttered, squeezing his free hand into a fist a couple of times, testing for any resistance. "Just hurt a little to go into bankai."

"Hurt how?" Renji dug Zabimaru into the sand before grabbing Ichigo's arm and turning him around.

"I don't know." Ichigo was frowning, staring down at his chest where the pain had started. "It was only for a second."

"We should stop." Renji's hand tightened fractionally, and Ichigo raised his eyes, finally noticing the other man's proximity.

The fingers on his arm were sliding towards his shoulder and he realized that Renji's other hand had slipped under his coat at some point, curling over his hip. Sweat darkened locks of fiery hair were escaping their high ponytail to frame tattooed brows drawn together in worry. Ichigo had never been intimidated by Renji's height before, but suddenly he seemed a little too real, a little too close.

"I-I'm fine," Ichigo stuttered, pulling away so fast that he nearly stumbled again. He couldn't quite suppress a wince as his arm twisted under Zangetsu's weight.

Renji's eyes narrowed, catching the expression, not bothering to retrieve Zabimaru as he stepped forward again. Ichigo glared at him and started to turn away but a hand shot out, fingers closing gently around his wrist.

"What the hell," Ichigo snapped, trying to pull free. "I said I'm fine."

Renji ignored him, prying Zangetsu from his weakened grasp and driving him into the ground just as he had Zabimaru.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo demanded as Renji pushed his sleeve higher, sliding his fingers over the exposed skin.

"The bone was really messed up, took a lot of work to get right." Renji didn't look up and he continued to examine the area. "Might be sore for awhile."

"It doesn't hurt," he lied, allowing his wrist to be turned over with an exasperated sigh.

"The hell it doesn't," Renji accused, shooting him a glare. "It's not gonna do ya any good if ya overuse it and wind up tearin' somethin'."

"Fine," Ichigo muttered reluctantly. "So maybe we should stop for now, but I'm still ready to patrol." His eyes narrowed in challenge.

"You two finished?" a voice inquired from behind Ichigo.

He snatched his wrist from Renji's grasp, spinning to find Hitsugaya approaching them from a point near the ladder. He pushed his sleeve back down, trying to fight the ridiculous urge to blush like he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Yeah, we're finished, Taichou, did ya need somethin'?" Renji inquired, stepping up beside Ichigo.

"No, I was watching part of your fight," Hitsugaya admitted. "Looks like you've recovered well enough." He turned to Ichigo. "Did something happen near the end, though; I noticed you were examining your arm?"

Ichigo felt the heat in his face and hoped it just looked like exertion form the fight. "Just a little sore still," he assured him.

Hitsugaya studied him for a moment longer before turning back to Renji. "You have a shift coming up tonight and I was going to take it if Kurosaki wasn't recovered. Would you clear him to go out if it were up to you?"

Ichigo stiffened but it was unnecessary because Renji replied easily, "Sure, he's fine, just needs to rest before then."

Hitsugaya seemed thoughtful for a moment, once again running an assessing eye over Ichigo. "Alright," he finally relented. "You can patrol from 6 to 10 with Abarai-fukutaichou, but I'll cover the second half of the shift."

"I don't need you cutting me any slack," Ichigo huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"The only reason I'm letting you go at all is because I don't believe you'd stay home if I ordered you to." Histugaya glared at him. "Forth division wouldn't have cleared you for another four days at least," he added pointedly.

"Four days!" Ichigo balked at him. "I'd go crazy in four days."

"Which is why I'm letting you go on _light_ duty." Hitsugaya gritted his teeth in irritation. "At least this way we know where you are."

Ichigo scowled but Renji nudged him sharply, launching into a discussion over where the partner change should occur. Ichigo, figuring it was always a bad sign when _Renji_, of all people, was giving him lessons on tact, gave up the argument and decided to _try_ to be grateful that he could go out at all.

When everything had been settled, Renji headed back upstairs to deal with the mountain of paperwork that Byakuya always saw fit to grace him with even though he was on assignment. Ichigo, having nothing better to do, opted to go back home for awhile and spend some time with his family. Renji offered to go with him, but Hitsugaya was already heading out to meet Matsumoto and it was only a two block detour. He needed some time away from Renji anyway so that he could clear his head.

**(*)**

Everything was soft shadows and moonlight as Ichigo landed in the grass, straightening to stare out over the water. Something crawled across his spine, a sickly sort of tickle, but he brushed it aside. He was nearing the end of his four hour patrol and there had yet to be a sighting of either Hollow or Arrancar, though Ichigo found that he didn't really mind. It was enough to just be out, and besides, he had other things he needed to face first.

"Ya don't have to do this." Renji spoke from behind him, one hand falling on his shoulder in a show of support.

"It's alright." Ichigo shook the hand off gently. "I want to."

He stepped forward, the soft crunch of the grass and the chirping of crickets the only sound as he made his way down the hill. He knew Renji was following but he didn't care, he didn't have any pressing need to be alone. As he neared level ground he began to slow, his eyes sweeping the area as though looking for something.

He could feel a cold seeping into him that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. It was like he could once again feel the blood draining away as the darkness crept closer, licking his senses, driving him mad. He shivered and felt Renji take a step closer, concern radiating off of him like a physical touch. Ichigo moved forward again.

The hole was as big as both of his fists, an angry wound punched through the ground, the grass just starting to curl over its edges. He wasn't really surprised that no one had filled it in, there weren't many visitors in this area, and it was only maintenanced once every couple of weeks. He dropped to his knees, dipping his fingers into the depression, almost imagining that he could still feel his blood drying in the damp earth.

It was surreal, kneeing in the place where he should have died, running his fingers over the ground that he'd watered with his own life's essence. It was disconcerting in a way, but it was also somewhat reassuring, like facing a demon and realizing that it held no power over him. He slid Zangetsu off his back, tossing him to one side as he stretching out in the grass next to the hole, rolling onto his back to stare at the sky.

He heard a sharp intake of breath and swung his eyes to where Renji was still kneeling, staring down at him with a haunted expression.

"You alright?" he asked, turning his head against the grass.

"Yeah." Renji sounded slightly shaken. "Just weird seein' ya like that again."

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be," Ichigo admitted, rolling a blade of grass between his fingers. "I guess I expected to be afraid or something, but it's just kinda weird."

"I thought you were dead when I saw you." Renji reached out to trace the edge of the hole, just as Ichigo had done. "You were all covered with blood, and I couldn't find a pulse, couldn't feel your reiatsu over Urahara fightin'."

Ichigo watched his fingers clench in the grass, digging into the earth until his knuckles went white.

"What's fucked up is that I was actually _more_ afraid when I realized that you were alive, 'cause I knew you were barely holdin' on." His voice was rough as he stared hard into the ground. "I thought you were gonna die while I was carryin' ya back for help. I thought I was going to have to watch."

Ichigo frowned, his sense of calm falling away. He'd never really thought of this from Renji's perspective. He sat up, running a hand through his hair, trying to imagine what it would have been like to see Renji laying there in a pool of his own blood. What if it had been Chad, or Rukia, or one of his sisters? What if he had been the one carrying that lifeless body through the streets, praying that he made it in time, praying that he wouldn't feel death settle over someone he was trying to protect?

He suddenly felt very stupid for all the time he'd been wasting worrying and stressing over trivial nonsense. Renji was right; it didn't matter, not really. He was going into a war in which people were going to die, people he knew and cared about. He was going to have to watch, and press forward, and maybe even die himself before it was through. His carefully crafted self-image was worthless when it came to protecting his friends, or keeping ahead of the next attack, or defeating Aizen. All he was doing right now was distracting himself from the things he needed to be focusing on.

"Ichigo?" He felt fingers curl around his shoulder, shaking him gently, and realized that Renji had come to kneel in front of him. "Ya looked kinda lost there for a minute. Didn't mean to freak ya out."

"I'm okay," he sighed. "Just thinking again."

"About dyin'?" Renji looked concerned.

"Sorta, but not really. I guess I'm just thinking about everything," he replied, dropping his head and rolling his neck to relieve the tension. "There's a lot of shit going on right now."

"Ain't gonna argue with ya there," Renji muttered, and Ichigo wasn't surprised to feel fingers come up to trail through his hair.

"Why do you do that?" he wondered aloud. "You always start messing with my hair."

"Never heard ya complainin' before," Renji grunted, continuing to tease the locks. "'Bout the only thing ya _don't_ complain about, actually."

Ichigo snorted softly, tipping his head back a little so that he could see the other man. "Just doesn't seem like you, that's all; too _soft_ or something."

Renji dropped his hand, and in even under the soft moonlight Ichigo could see the color tint his cheeks. It was surprisingly appealing.

"When we were growin' up, Rukia used to do it for the other kids when they'd get upset," he mumbled finally. "She said it was ta remind them that someone cared, so they'd know they weren't alone."

"So you _are_ being soft," Ichigo prodded him, smirking.

"Hey, I don't got a lot of experience comfortin' people or tryin' to be understandin'," Renji defended, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Ain't like I have a long history of people bein' nice to me, so I'm just doin' what I remember."

"Why try at all?" Ichigo would have been curious even without the added bonus of Renji's embarrassment.

The redhead somehow managed to scowl and look thoughtful at the same time. "I've been where you are. I know what it's like to drive yourself crazy 'cause you're tryin' to do everythin' yourself." His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "It fuckin' sucks."

Renji lowered his eyes; dark lashes sweeping halfway down as he stared at the grass between them. The last shreds of Ichigo's amusement faded as he saw Renji's brows come together against some resurfacing memory. He realized that Renji had, in his own unique way, been offering him the type of support that redhead had so often been denied himself.

Ichigo reached out hesitantly, pressing his thumb to the furrow knotting Renji's brow, stroking along that arch of the tattoo as if to wipe away the pain of past events. Renji's eyes flicked back up, but Ichigo was watching the progress of his thumb as repeated the gesture on the other side. His pulse jumped slightly as Renji leaned into the touch, but he didn't pull back, continuing to trace the lines of fatigue and worry.

"Ya goin' soft on me?" Renji muttered, the corner of his lips tugging upwards.

"Quit complaining, dumbass," he grumbled, letting his hand fall away.

Something flickered across Renji's features, regret or possibly disappointment, a brief faltering in the smirk that still lingered. Ichigo felt a twisting in his stomach, like he was letting himself down in some way, like he was missing something important. He frowned, tugging his lip between his teeth as his chest seemed to constrict for no reason.

Almost of its own accord his hand rose again, two fingers ghosting across Renji's lips, soft and uncertain. They parted slightly under the caress, warm breath stirring against his skin as the other man sighed inaudibly. A hand closed softly on his arm, neither restraining nor rejecting, thumb tracing the tender flesh along the inside of his wrist. Everything seemed to be moving too fast and too slow all at the same time, and he knew his hand would have been trembling if not for the added support.

"Fuck," he whispered raggedly and then, before the last of his resolve disappeared, he slid his fingers around the back of Renji's neck and pulled him forward.

Ichigo tipped his head as Renji drew closer and felt the brush of lips against his own. Fingers released his wrist, trailing up his arm and across his shoulder to cup the side of his neck. Renji's lips moved under his languidly, guiding him in a slow dance as the hand tilted his chin to an easier angle.

Ichigo pulled away, staring into the half-lidded eyes regarding him with heavy interest. "I guess I _might_ be bi, or whatever the fuck you call it in Soul Society," he admitted grudgingly, a blush spreading through his already flushed face.

"How the fuck have ya managed to live this long when you're so damn _slow_?" Renji chuckled darkly, his breath hot against Ichigo's lips as he closed the distance between them.

Ichigo would have been insulted if he'd been able to think, but the tongue licking a trail across his lower lip had become the center of his world. He parted his lips, granting Renji's request for entrance, reaching out to taste him as the tongue explored his mouth.

Another hand found its way to his neck, thumbs pressing into the tender skin beneath his jaw, tilting his head back as Renji rose on his knees to lean over him. Ichigo gasped, his fingers tightening against the back of the tattooed neck, tangling in the vibrant wisps of hair escaping their tie. He pressed up, unwilling to be overpowered, sucking gently at the tongue sweeping over his own. Renji groaned, stroking over Ichigo's wildly beating pulse, pulling him closer.

Renji's tongue retreated and Ichigo followed, grazing over lips and teeth to test the area beyond, hesitant and unsure. Renji was leaning into him, pressing him back and he slid his free hand through the grass, supporting their weight.

Renji broke free, trailing his mouth across the younger man's jaw. Ichigo's breath hitched as a tongue tasted the hollow behind his ear, stirring across skin that he'd never even known was sensitive. He shivered, his head rolling to the side as he arched into the touch. Renji's hands dipped lower, fingers sliding into the folds of Ichigo's kimono as his mouth continued its path down the exposed neck.

"Ren…Renji…" Ichigo choked when he felt teeth nip the top of his shoulder as the cloth was pushed aside. He lost his balance, falling back against the grass with a muffled thud.

Renji caught himself with one hand to keep from crushing the smaller body, dipping his head to suck on the exposed collarbone curving delicately beneath the skin. Ichigo ran his hands over Renji's shoulders, biting his lip to keep from moaning. He could feel the heat coiling between his legs, a tightening, aching feeling that made his blood burn. Renji settled onto him, pulling at his already loosened clothing, and Ichigo could feel the evidence of the arousal pressing against his thigh.

He tried to move but couldn't, and suddenly everything felt a little too close, trapping him, making his heart pound painfully. Renji, feeling the flutter of nervous reiatsu, pulled back, pushing onto his hands and knees to stare down at the disheveled, panting figure. Ichigo stared back, trying to remember how to breathe, his eyes wide, and a little confused.

"You alright?" Renji was panting as well, hair spilling everywhere from his nearly destroyed ponytail.

"I'm…I just…" Ichigo looked away, blushing.

"Ya ain't used to anyone trying to pin ya down except to beat the shit outta ya?" Renji smirked faintly when Ichigo's gaze snapped back to him. "Spend all your time fightin' and ya start to think the only reason someone wants ya on the ground is so they can kick ya while you're there."

"Sorry," Ichigo muttered softly. "It's just…new."

"It's alright," Renji assured him. "Ya did better than I thought ya would," he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sorry," Ichigo muttered again, feeling ridiculous.

"Ain't got nothing to be sorry for." Renji dropped down beside him, adjusting the front of his hakama discreetly. "I know ya don't got much experience; I ain't gonna push ya."

"I just don't know how…I mean…shit!" Ichigo groaned, looking like he'd rather be admitting to anything other than this. He ran a hand through his hair. "You sorta know what you're doing, right? I mean you've…you know…" He gritted his teeth, willing himself not to sound so awkward.

Renji snorted. "I don't know how old I look to you, but trust me, it would be pretty insultin' if I was still a virgin." He rolled onto his side, staring at the younger man. "Ain't had a whole lot of time for it, and I sure as hell ain't been with a guy, but I know how it all works," he smirked.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, starting to feel a little more comfortable. "How old _are_ you, anyway? I tried to do the math on Rukia once, and figured she was somewhere around 70 or 80 from everything I'd heard."

"Close enough." Renji looked mildly impressed. "Ain't gonna freak out about that now, are ya?"

"Not unless you start acting your age," Ichigo scoffed.

"Asshole." Renji was still smirking as he slipped an arm under Ichigo's neck, dragging him a little closer. "Ya actually gonna be okay with any of this tomorrow?" he asked, his eyebrow twitching upward.

"How the fuck should I know?" Ichigo still looked a little confused. "I'll try not to freak out," he added sullenly.

Renji laughed, digging his communicator out of his pocket and flipping it open. "We gotta meet Hitsugaya in 10 minutes."

"I still say I could finish the whole shift," Ichigo groused, reluctantly climbing to his feet to readjust his clothing. His hakama was still pulling a bit awkwardly, but it wasn't anything that a 10 minute walk in the cold couldn't fix.

"It's best not to overdo it in the first couple of days." Renji shrugged. "He'll lighten up after that."

"He better," Ichigo scowled.

They made their way back to the street and from there onto the rooftops, soaring across the distance in graceful leaps.

"You gonna come to my place when you're done?" Ichigo broke the silence as they neared their destination, his voice barely audible above the passing wind.

"You want me to?" Renji cocked an eyebrow at him, drawing it out even though they both already knew that answer.

"I don't care, bastard, do whatever the hell you want," Ichigo huffed, leaping ahead so he wouldn't have to suffer through any further reply. Renji laughed, a grin spreading across his face as he took up the chase. Ichigo seemed to be feeling better.

**(*)**

Ichigo was still awake when Renji slipped into his room, pulling his hair free almost before his feet touched the ground. Ichigo had draped a pair of shorts over the chair, apparently anticipating Renji's ever-present need to borrow clothing. The redhead smirked at him as he started to undress.

Ichigo watched the roll of muscle under that tattooed flesh as Renji shrugged out of his clothes. He paused, shirtless in the moonlight, and ran his fingers through his hair, braiding it with deft, unhurried movements. His eyes never left Ichigo throughout the entire process and the younger man found the whole thing a bit arousing.

He managed to overcome this, however, when Renji reached for the ties on his hakama, his eyes falling shut against a sudden wave of embarrassment. Renji chuckled softly, slipping into the shorts and making his way to the bed. He crawled over Ichigo, brushing against him a bit more that was absolutely necessary, before settling in behind him. He dropped an arm around the lean waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns over the twitching muscled of Ichigo's stomach.

"I ain't got nothin' ya haven't seen before," he teased lightly.

"Fuck off," Ichigo snapped, irritated at his display of innocence, shivering under the light tickle of the wayward fingers.

Renji snickered, leaning forward to press his lips against the curve of Ichigo's neck, enjoying the slight gasp of surprise. "I can always leave if ya want."

Ichigo scowled darkly, still embarrassed and now a little off balance. "Just go to sleep," he ordered.

Renji chuckled again but settled into the pillow, nuzzling into the back of the orange hair and continuing trace over Ichigo's surprisingly soft skin. The younger man didn't tell him to stop this time, though after a few minutes he slipped his hand over the fingers, effectively trapping them in place.

Renji smiled into his hair, recognizing that this was definitely an improvement. He was still pretty sure that this was a bad idea, but as long he was going to complicate his life he might as well aim to improve.


	11. Tempest

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

**Tempest **

The corners of Ichigo's lips lifted slightly as a pleasant tingle skated across his remnant dreams, dragging him slowly towards the waking world. He rolled his head gently against the pillow, protesting the loss of the already forgotten memories while shifting deeper into the warmth at his back. The tickle on his skin paused for a moment, a contemplative silence, and then continued.

It took him only a few seconds to realize that Renji was petting him again, tracing the lines of his stomach and ribs, but he wasn't awake enough yet to complain. He didn't mind, not really. It was just a strange sort of tickle; one that made him want to squirm in ways that had been a bit unnerving while he was still trying to deny certain _attractions_. Honestly, it still made him nervous most of the time but currently, still drowsy and warm, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

The fingers slipped lower, dipping into his navel, and he finally gave into the building shiver, a sigh spilling from his lips. The body behind him shifted, drawing closer, warm breath stirring the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. He tipped his head forward, exposing more of his flesh as the fingers painted lazy patterns back up his stomach.

"You awake?" Renji's lips moved against his shoulder, his voice barely more than a whisper in the stillness of the room.

"Sorta," Ichigo mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

Renji made a sound that might have been a chuckle, but it was too soft to distinguish. He continued his slow exploration, following the contours of ribs beneath flesh, scraping his nails over the skin. Ichigo shivered again, his hand twitching against the blanket as a different kind of warmth spread through him.

"You're _petting_ me again," he muttered without any real heat.

"Yeah," Renji agreed, smirking against his skin. "And I think ya like it."

Ichigo opened his mouth to deny it, but all that came out was a startled little gasp as a thumb flicked over his nipple. He finally opened his eyes, staring down at the darker hand as Renji rolled the hardening bud between his thumb and finger. He bit his lip as his body twitched in response.

"Ya like that?" Renji's voice was deeper than Ichigo remembered.

"I-I don't know," he stuttered as the fingers squeezed a little harder.

"You fuckin' lie a lot," Renji pointed out, leaning forward to catch an earlobe between his teeth, tugging it gently.

Ichigo's breath hitched as his senses swam under the foreign assault. Strangely, his body knew how to react even if his mind didn't, leaning into the touch, pressing into the heat against his back. Renji's fingers were moving again, following a meaningless path to the other nipple, stroking it gently. He released his hold on the earlobe, tongue flickering out as he tasted the skin behind it. Ichigo's head fell back, red hair drifting over his cheek as Renji continued down his neck.

"Renji...I..." He didn't know what to say, but he felt compelled to say something, _anything_.

"What is it?" Renji murmured, lips trailing over the curve of his shoulder.

"Nothing." Ichigo bit his lip again, trying to relax.

Renji lifted his head for a second, sensing the hesitation despite the hazy quality of his thoughts. "Y'okay?" His breath was hot on Ichigo's skin as he unconsciously teased the nipple between his fingers.

Ichigo exhaled shakily, squirming under the touch, still worrying his lip though he made no move to stop him. Renji's eyes narrowed at the reaction, a wayward thought dancing across his mind. He leaned forward again and Ichigo drew in a sharp, hissing breath as he felt teeth sink into the top of his shoulder; not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a little shiver racing up his spine. He shuddered, his lips parting on a silent gasp.

A hand came up of its own accord, tangling in the red hair, surprising them both by pressing him harder into the skin. Renji pulled back, lapping the area, drawing the first muffled groan out of Ichigo. The hand in his hair tightened and he smirked, nipping along Ichigo's exposed neck to recapture his earlobe, biting down harder than he had before.

"Shit," Ichigo groaned, arching into the touch.

Renji sucked the soft lobe into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. His hand slid back down Ichigo's chest to splay across his stomach, holding them together, keeping the younger body still as he continued his assault. Ichigo gave another soft, choking moan and Renji felt his own hips twitch in response.

Tentatively, hesitantly, he slid lower, tracing Ichigo's erection through the cloth of his shorts. Ichigo bucked against his hand, thrusting instinctively, craving the friction.

"Fuck, Renji..." he bit out brokenly, his hips rolling as the fingers made a second, still too subtle pass.

The hand returned, gripping him harder, sliding against him as he jerked convulsively. His eyes fell shut and he clenched his jaw against the sounds that threatened to spill free, arching against the palm stroking him slowly.

"Ya like _that_?" Renji's voice was heavy and thick against the back of his neck.

"Stop talking," Ichigo hissed, already off balance enough without added conversation.

Lips moved against his spine and Renji squeezed him once more before pulling away, leaving him panting and vaguely dissatisfied. There was no time to voice an objection, though, before fingers slid over his hipbone, dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. His heart smashed into his ribs, responding to what he knew was coming even before those long fingers curled over him.

"Ahhh…" Ichigo's head rolled back, thrusting into the callused hand.

Renji replied with a muffled grunt, sucking at the tender skin where his neck and shoulder met, grinding slowly against him as he started to stroke. Ichigo drove helplessly into the fist, the scrape of Renji's battle rough skin making it hard to breathe, making his head spin. A thumb curled up, collecting the liquid seeping from his slit, smearing it around the head of his cock in deliberately slow circles. Ichigo trembled, straining against Renji, a broken cry escaping as teeth grazed the pulse beating wildly against his throat.

"F-f-fuck…" Ichigo bit his lip hard, his eyes squeezing shut. It was overwhelming; everything was so strange and fast, but it felt _sooo_ good and he didn't want it to stop.

Renji released his neck, pulling back to look at him, stroking slowly down his length. He shifted away, nudging Ichigo onto his back, staring at him through escaping hair as his hand continued the torturous rhythm. Ichigo's eyes opened, hazy and dark with lust, meeting his gaze.

"Ya okay?" he murmured, curling an arm under Ichigo's neck so he could brush his fingers through the sweat dark hair.

Ichigo stared up at him through half closed lashes, his hips rocking up as the fingers around him squeezed. He understood the real question: was he _going_ to be okay when all of this was over? He gasped, his head straining back against the pillow. He didn't have an answer for that question, but he was fucking tired of being a coward.

He reached up, catching the end of Renji's braid, pulling it loose so that he could thread his fingers through the fiery cascade. His other hand slid against Renji's chest, hesitantly tracing the tattooed lines, unsure of what to do. Renji faltered, momentarily losing that slow, steady rhythm.

"I like it when you touch me," he confessed, nuzzling against the hand in his hair. "I always have."

Ichigo licked his lips, his eyes darting to the path his fingers were following, feeling bolder at the admission. Renji was moving again, fingers sliding faster, hips rocking as he ground his erection into the thigh pressed against him. Ichigo's lashes fluttered and he slid his hand lower, tracing over an already coiled nipple. He took it between his fingers, stroking it experimentally.

"Harder," Renji breathed, twisting the hand around Ichigo's cock, leaning into his writhing body.

The younger man complied readily, pinching the hardened bud, rolling it until Renji threw back his head with a throaty groan. There was something powerful about drawing a sound like that from someone like Renji, and Ichigo could think of nothing more important than hearing it again. His hand was shaking as it slipped lower, brushing the top of Renji's shorts, drawing back nervously.

Renji released his hold on Ichigo, catching his hand and pressing it to the hard length straining against his pants. His breath hitched on a moan, his head falling against the younger man's shoulder as he bucked into their combined touch. He groaned again when he felt the fingers wrap around him, testing him, sliding over him with growing confidence.

He pulled back and found Ichigo watching, flushed and panting, an almost wild look in his eyes. Renji held that gaze as he brought his hand up, licking across his palm and fingers before slipping them back into the younger man's shorts. Ichigo's hips arched off the bed, his head thrown back with a choked shout as the fingers slid effortlessly, fast and hard.

He shoved his hand down Renji's pants, all hesitation lost under the assault as he gripped him tight, stroking ruthlessly. Renji shuddered, biting down on Ichigo's shoulder to muffle the sounds that were rising in his throat. Ichigo twisted against him, thrusting wildly into his fist, his eyes rolling back in his head. He could feel the tension coiling tight, begging to be set free, begging for release.

"IIIICHIGOOOO, it's time to – ggAAHHK." Isshin had bounded through the door only to trip over some invisible obstacle, staggering into the wall.

Ichigo reacted instantly, shoving Renji back and falling over the edge of the bed in his attempt to put distance between them. He drew his knees up in front of himself, trying to remember how to breathe, thanking every god imaginable that it had been his father and not Karin to come barging in. He heard Renji's frustrated groan and felt the responding sentiment throb between his legs.

"Don't you knock?" he fumed, glaring at the man who still looked flustered from his near fall.

"I-I was coming to welcome my dearest son to the new day." Isshin's beaming smile looked almost painful and he seemed to have developed a keen interest in something outside of the window.

"Are you sure he can't see me?" Renji had shifted closer, his breath tickling Ichigo's ear. "He's acting really weird."

"Why the fuck are you acting so weird?" Ichigo demanded, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What language to be using so early, think of your poor sisters." Isshin danced from one foot to the other. "Speaking of your sisters, I must be off; daddy's love must be shared."

He tore from the room before Ichigo could respond, slamming the door a little too hard behind him. Ichigo continued to stare into the empty space, his face burning. The bed dipped and Renji settled onto the floor next to him, still frowning.

"He can't see you, alright? He's just fucking weird," he assured him, dropping his head into his hands in mortification.

"Whatever." Renji moved restlessly, turning to face him. "Ya want me to finish you?"

Ichigo moved his fingers a little, peering at him from the corner of his eye, half incredulous and half tempted. Unfortunately, Isshin chose that moment to rematerialize in the hall, calling out something about breakfast as Karin shouted a continuous string of insults in his wake. Ichigo groaned, his hands sliding back into place, and Renji seemed to recognize this signaled the end of the morning.

"I should probably get back to Urahara's." He sighed heavily. "I didn't finish the report from last night."

"Yeah, um, I need to take a shower and do a couple of things here," Ichigo muttered awkwardly. "I'll be over there to train later."

Renji rolled to his feet and Ichigo tried not to stare at the front of his shorts, not needing the reminder of his own condition. He dressed quickly and quietly, shoving Zabimaru into his sash and tying back his hair. Ichigo stood, rubbing his neck as he watched him move towards the window. He paused, looking back as if he wanted to say something.

"Look, I…" He ran a hand over his face and Ichigo realized that he was thinking about apologizing.

Still reeling from the mornings activities, and not feeling particularly apologetic himself, Ichigo crossed the distance between them in two strides and crushed his lips against Renji's. He used the moment of surprise to his advantage, sweeping his tongue into Renji's mouth. Arms tightened around him, crushing them together, pulling him up as Renji kissed him back, hard. He pulled away, glaring defiantly, needing to prove that he wasn't going to scare so easily this time.

"This ain't over," Renji smirked, some of his earlier tension falling away.

"No shit," Ichigo smirked back, stepping away and crossing his arms. "Now get the fuck out of my house before someone sees you."

Renji chuckled, pulling the window open and giving him one last, hard look before leaping to the grass below. Ichigo watched him shunpo away and felt a residual shiver course through his body. It was going to be a long fucking day.

**(*)**

Ichigo sat cross-legged on the ground, staring moodily at Zangetsu sticking out of the sand a few inches away. In the distance Urahara was rummaging through his usual collection of oddities, humming to himself as he waited for the final decision.

Ichigo, bored with his orders to take it easy and feeling strangely irritable, had sought out the former captain as soon as he managed to escape his house. He'd been curious how his experiments were going and having found him ready for another round of tests, offered to see if his Hollow side was up to the task. He hadn't tried accessing his inner world, opting instead to ask Zangetsu outright to see if it happened to be one of his more forthcoming days. He'd gotten an answer almost immediately, in fact he'd gotten two; his Hollow whispered that he was fine, and Zangetsu offered a somewhat vague warning about overtaxing himself. They'd fallen silent at that point, and Ichigo resigned himself to waiting.

"Any progress?" Urahara asked casually, crouching down in front of him and pressing a sticky metal disc to the inside of his wrist.

Ichigo frowned at it, turning it towards the light for a better look. "No, but I'm getting a weird headache. I think maybe they're arguing." He pressed his fingers into his temples and glared at the sword again.

"Hmm." Urahara placed a hand against Ichigo's forehead, brushing his reiatsu over the younger man. "There's no specific rush, this can wait."

"There's always a rush." Ichigo shook him off. "Fucking Aizen's not just going to sit around and wait for me to feel better."

Urahara shrugged but conceded the point.

Ichigo huffed, scratching moodily at his wrist. "What do you have that can push me into my inner world? This is getting ridiculous."

Urahara frowned at him but cocked his head to one side, considering for a moment before making his way back to one of his boxes. Ichigo was about to follow when he felt a tug at the edge of his consciousness.

'_That is unnecessary, Ichigo.'_

He dropped back into the sand, "So what's the decision?"

'_It is safe to utilize your Hollow abilities for a short period of time, though no more than two or three hours.' _He sounded displeased and though he wasn't stupid enough to ask, Ichigo wondered what had been said to make him go against his obvious wishes.

"That's fine," he agreed, shaking the sand out of his clothes and pulling Zangetsu out of the ground. "Is there anything else?"

There was no reply.

"Looks like it'll be fine for a couple of hours," he informed Urahara, who had paused mid-search to watch the one-sided conversation.

"Well, that gives us one session with the Negacion field, possibly two." The blond seemed to do a couple of quick calculations in his head. "That should be enough to give me a direction for modifications."

Ichigo nodded, rolling his shoulders, not really looking forward to fighting his way out of a void dimension but glad to be doing something useful. He watched Urahara fish the strange cube from his pocket, unwinding the chain carefully before slipping it over Ichigo's head.

"I'll be monitoring things closely; if it looks like you're struggling I'll intervene." He looked more solemn than usual.

"I thought I was supposed to struggle," Ichigo pointed out, spinning the cube between his fingers.

"Yes, but after a point it's no longer productive." Urahara's sage look was marred by the smirk tugging at his mouth.

He looked like he was going to say something else but a buzzing behind him drew his attention. He looked back, frowning, and then transferred his gaze to the ladder that led to the surface. Ichigo turned and saw something dark drop through the hole in the ceiling, disappearing behind some rocks that obstructed his view.

"Seems that we have some company," Urahara said unnecessarily, glancing at Ichigo from the corner of his eye.

They both knew who it was and Ichigo was vaguely uncomfortable with the fact that Urahara seemed to be leveling his curiosity at him, instead of at the approaching figure. He busied himself with rewrapping Zangetsu until their uninvited guest strolled into view.

"Hey." Renji stopped a few feet away. "Thought maybe you could use a hand. Ain't got nothin' better to do."

"That's very kind of you, Abarai-kun." Urahara stepped forward, effortlessly slipping into his most carefree tone. "But I'm afraid the instruments I'm using are calibrated very specifically. It would disrupt the experiment if you were to stay."

"Uh-huh." Renji's eyes left the former captain to linger on Ichigo. "If it's about the Hollow, it don't bother me."

Ichigo saw a look of interest creep into Urahara's eyes and winced slightly. "It's not what you think; nothing exciting is going to happen."

"Then what's it matter if I stay?" Renji cocked an eyebrow at him.

Ichigo squirmed uncomfortably; he really didn't want Renji to see this.

"Calibration issues." He tried to sound bored. "Everything's really technical."

Renji made a rude noise, "That's bullshit."

He tilted his head slightly, regarding Ichigo with one of his unusually shrewd looks. "It don't change anythin'. I already know what it means, I just wanna see it."

"Why?" Ichigo looked to Urahara for help but the blond had dropped all pretenses, shifting his gaze between them with blatant interest. Ichigo scowled at him.

"It's sorta been buggin' me since ya told me, and I don't want it to." Renji shrugged. "Figured the best thing would be just to come an' see for myself."

"Facing your fears?" Ichigo knew the thought shouldn't bother him so much, but it did. This is why he didn't want people to know about this shit, because it made them afraid, it made them look at him like he was a different person.

"You're such a dumbass." Renji gave him a flat stare. "I already told ya I ain't scared. I'm just, I don't know, _curious_, I guess."

Ichigo's jaw was clenched so tight that Renji could see the muscle jumping. He started to take a step forward but drew up when the younger man tensed further.

"Look." Renji's eyes narrowed in frustration. "If seein' the damn Hollow didn't send me runnin' then what the fuck is seein' the mask gonna do?" He let out an exasperated sigh. "The bastard cursed at me, for fuck sake, it don't get much weirder than that."

"You've actually _seen_ the Hollow?" Urahara had apparently reached the limits of his patient listening skills, a rare look of shock plastered across his face.

"Yeah," Renji admitted, sparing the other man a glance as though just realizing that he was still there.

The former captain looked like he had about a thousand questions, but he held his tongue. Probably just until Ichigo was stuck in the Negacion field. He scowled at him again.

He really didn't like the thought of Renji seeing his mask, because it represented the dark part of him that he'd spent so long fighting, the part that he'd been so afraid of. Admittedly, Renji had done better with the Hollow than he would have thought possible, but he'd always seen the mask as different, as something that he'd done willingly.

It didn't matter that he was in control; he could still feel the power beneath the surface, like black threads running through his veins. He could feel the hard edge of it in battle, could feel it coiling heavy and thick inside of his reiatsu. Shinigami and Hollows were natural enemies, down to the core of their beings, and despite this being his only viable option he couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow tainted. Couldn't help but think that _other_ people would see him as tainted.

Still, Renji already knew the truth of the matter, all he was asking for was the physical proof and some part of Ichigo felt like he owed him that. Renji had put up with a lot of shit from him recently with minimal complaint, which considering their history was really surprising. He had put a lot of trust in Ichigo, and now all he wanted was to have that trust returned.

"Fuck." Ichigo threw back his head, staring at the pseudo sky in defeat.

"Would you care for a seat, Abarai-kun?" Urahara had apparently learned to read his intricate and subtle degrees of vulgarity.

"I just want to see the mask; I don't need to stay for the rest if I'm gonna be in the way." Renji sounded a little subdued for someone who'd just won. Maybe he'd been hoping for less of a fight.

"It's fine," Ichigo sighed, meeting his gaze once again. "I wasn't lying about it being boring, all you have to do is sit and wait."

Renji shrugged, looking between Ichigo and Urahara.

"So," he sounded the slightest bit apprehensive. "What happens now?"

Ichigo clenched his fists a couple of times, trying to release the tension in his muscles. "Might as well get it over with." He tried to sound calm, glancing at Urahara, "We can start the experiment in a few minutes."

The former captain nodded and Ichigo turned back to Renji, his whole frame rigid. "Are you ready?"

Renji's lips twitched slightly. "You're freakin' out again."

"Asshole." Ichigo found himself smirking, the knot in his stomach loosening.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for any possible reaction before reaching up and drawing his hand across his face. He felt the mask forming, felt the twinge of pain that had accompanied his bankai, and then the power snapped into place. He dropped his hand, staring at Renji, watching his eyes widen in reaction to the mask and the dark bite of his reiatsu.

Renji barely hesitated, covering the distance between them, ignoring the way that Ichigo tensed. He stopped about a foot away, staring down into the black and gold eyes, his brows drawn together in a frown. A hand came up slowly and Ichigo had to fight the urge to retreat as fingers traced the red markings beneath his eye. Renji repeated the gesture, tracing the lines across his forehead, brushing against his hair with a gentle, sweeping caress.

"Can you talk?" he asked, his brows still furrowed in concentration.

"Yeah." Ichigo's voice was soft, muffled by the barrier between them.

He felt a surge of power and reached up to catch Renji's wrist as the mask broke away, feeling him twitch in surprise. The darkness faded from his eyes and he blinked as he felt Renji's fingertips brush over his cheek, following the invisible pattern of the mask once again. He stared up at him, unable to think of an appropriate response as the touch sent a tingle down the side of his neck.

He snapped back to himself a second later and pulled away, noticing Urahara grinning in a way that made his face burn. He turned, clearing his throat as he released Renji's wrist. Whatever reaction he'd been imagining, that hadn't been it.

"Well now you've seen it." He was proud of the fact that his voice sounded normal. "We should start the tests, the clock's ticking now."

Urahara nodded, still grinning, and turned to retrieve the necessary components. Renji just watched as Ichigo stepped away, walking to a flat patch of sand before turning to face them again. He licked his lips, reaching up to grasp Zangetsu before nodding sharply.

"Mask on." Urahara's grin had settled into a smirk.

Ichigo pulled the mask over his face once again, his fingers clenching tight on Zangetsu's hilt. He had one last image of Renji watching him with concern before everything pulled apart and the world dropped away.

**(*)**

"Owwww," Ichigo groaned, rolling onto his side so that he could draw his legs closer to his chest.

"Here." Urahara was kneeling beside him, pressing a bottle of water into his hand.

He sipped at it without raising his head, letting it puddle under his face when it ran over. His chest was throbbing dully, but he was more concerned with the way that his stomach was rolling, threatening to rebel if he didn't comply with its wish to remain still. He felt fingers pressing against his neck and managed to turn his head.

"How long?" Ichigo muttered, watching Urahara frown.

"One hour and thirteen minutes," he replied, looking apologetic. "I probably should have brought you out."

"M'fine." Ichigo waved him off. "Doesn't really hurt, just feel sick."

Urahara pulled out his notepad, jotting down a couple of entries as Ichigo took slow, deep breaths to calm himself.

"Where's Renji?" he asked after a moment, feeling a little better.

The corner of Urahara's mouth lifted and he spared him a wicked glance before returning to what he was writing. "He's sitting about 12 feet behind you. He seems rather angry."

Ichigo groaned, pushing himself a little ways off the ground to test his stomach's resolve. They'd managed to get two rounds in, though the last one had been rough. The first time he'd reappeared, slamming into the sand and coughing up a little blood, Renji had decided that this was a bad idea. Unfortunately, bad idea or not, it was necessary for Urahara's testing and so he'd pulled himself back up and shook off the residual pain. Renji had gritted his teeth but hadn't said anything; he knew the stakes as well as anyone.

"Did you get enough?" Ichigo asked Urahara, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where Renji was slowly stalking towards them.

"Enough for now," Urahara sighed, closing his pencil in the notebook. "I don't think I'll ever be able to hold an Espada for more than a couple of hours, but it looks promising for the lower ranks."

"Can it take more than one person at a time?" Ichigo finally managed to sit up properly.

"I'm still working on that." Urahara tugged off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "I have the basic concept laid out, but it will be almost impossible to test outside of actually taking it into a battle."

"That shouldn't be too hard to find soon," Ichigo pointed out as Renji dropped down next to him.

"You have to go again?" he asked, sounding more resigned to the process now that he'd witnessed it again.

"I can't today," Ichigo sighed, digging his palm into his eyes.

"You're sure Seireitei wouldn't have somethin' you could test with?" he asked, helping Ichigo pull the cube from around his neck.

"They don't have access to the type of Hollow energy I'm targeting and I'm fairly certain they wouldn't be pleased that I'm dabbling in these experiments again." Urahara accepted the small device, looking tired. "I wish that there was some other way to go about this, but there simply isn't."

He reached forward, turning Ichigo's arm over, peeling the flat disc off of his wrist. He rubbed his thumb over the reddened patch of skin a couple of times, turning the thing over in his hand, pale brows furrowed in thought.

"I never asked what that was," Ichigo muttered, allowing Renji to examine his wrist when Urahara released it.

He felt a little shiver run through him as the long fingers moved over his skin, sending a tingle up his arm that had more to do with the memory of the redhead's panting breath against his neck than with the experiment. He shook his head, trying to focus on what Urahara was saying.

"I was taking some more involved readings of your reiatsu fluctuations." He ran his hand through his hair again. "I'm trying to collect enough data to modify the way we track the Arrancar. Currently, everything is centered on the reiatsu signatures of an ordinary Hollow, which can cause problems when monitoring something else."

"Could ya track the fuckin' reiatsu supressin' ones?" Renji asked.

"I don't know at this point." He stood slowly, pocketing the little devices. "I just don't have access to a wide enough testing pool."

"Something else to test while we fight." Ichigo gave him a wry smile.

"I suppose," he agreed, offering him a hand up.

Ichigo allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, swaying slightly as the world righted itself. Urahara's hand closed around his arm as he peered at him in concern.

"Are you sure you haven't over done it?" he asked.

"Well, Zangetsu isn't complaining, so I guess it's fine." Ichigo unconsciously leaned into Renji when the redhead stepped up behind him, not missing the twitch of a pale eyebrow as Urahara released his arm.

He scowled, but didn't move. "Knock it off."

"My, my, such a rude tone." Urahara was grinning again as he replaced his hat, pulling it low over his eyes.

Ichigo felt the heat creeping into his face but he'd had enough experience with Urahara's odd behavior to keep it from spreading too far. He straightened, feeling the fatigue settling in his bones.

"You should get some rest if you're planning on patrolling later tonight, Kurosaki-kun." Urahara was still smirking, but his tone was genuinely concerned.

"I will." Ichigo was more than ready to comply.

"I could tell Hitsugaya-taichou that ya ain't feelin' up to it," Renji suggested, falling into step as they headed for the ladder.

"Fuck that," Ichigo scoffed.

Renji chuckled, feeling relieved that Ichigo at least _sounded_ like himself, even if he looked half dead. Ichigo staggered again, catching his foot on an overturned rock and Renji slipped an arm around him for support. It was the least he could offer after having spent the last couple of hours unable to do anything but watch him struggle.

Ichigo slid an arm up Renji's back, gripping his shoulder like a crutch. Honestly, he really did feel like he'd over done it, but there was no point in complaining about it now. Renji's arm tightened around him and he felt Urahara's eyes boring into the side of his head.

"Not a fucking word," he muttered, looking straight ahead.

Urahara's dark chuckle barely reached his ears. "I'm certainly in no position to be questioning other people's behavior."

Ichigo ignored him for the rest of the trip back into the shop, not even bothering to look back as he trudged into Renji's room. He stripped down to his hakama and fell onto the futon in a graceless sprawl.

"Ya really gonna be okay for tonight?" Renji dropped into a chair, looking down at him.

"Yeah, just wake me up in a couple of hours," Ichigo muttered, already feeling sleep overcoming him.

**(*)**

The Hollow was running again. Ichigo swore, wondering why the hell things couldn't just stand still and die as he took off in pursuit. It wasn't an Arrancar, but it was big and seemed capable of speeds that, in Ichigo's opinion, were just unnecessary. They'd been chasing it for what felt like hours, and it was getting irritating because it could dodge as well as it could run. He swore again as it disappeared between a couple of buildings, using shunpo to cut up an alley and head it off.

Renji had let him sleep until only an hour or so before they were due to start their shift, which was longer than he'd intended but left him feeling worlds better. He'd been able to shower and forage for food without any real sense of hurry, allowing him to keep that sense of wellbeing for a little while longer. He even accepted Ururu's message that Urahara had some _medicine_ he wanted him to take with better than usual spirits, muttering only a couple of choice curses as he trudged down the hall.

He'd found Urahara on the phone with some unknown caller, an unusual occurrence because the former captain hardly knew anyone who bothered with human communication. He'd had the most incredible look of glee on his face as he blithely explained that he could hardly be held responsible for other people's failure to pay attention to what was going on around them.

Ichigo had started to leave but Urahara had motioned him to stay, digging one handed through his supplies for whatever horrible concoction he was planning to foist on his victim. He paused, wicked gaze locked on Ichigo as he informed the mouth piece that whether or not _he_ had been aware of the _situation_ was beside the point, as he was running a humble shop, not an information service. Ichigo frowned, wondering why the way he'd drawled the word 'situation' seemed to linger with him.

He'd taken the little bottle of death flavored mystery sludge, not even bothering to ask what it was in his haste to get out of the room. Something about seeing Urahara _that_ thrilled made him want to be as far away as possible. As he slid the door closed, he thought he saw the blond give him the slightest wink, which only served to reassure him that nothing good was going to come of this.

He skidded out of the alley and blinked at the empty street, wondering for a brief moment if the Hollow had somehow managed to become invisible. A muffled explosion to his left cleared that mystery up, and he realized that he'd just missed a turn somewhere. He dashed off towards the destruction, wondering where the hell Renji had disappeared to.

He got the answer to his question as he rounded the corner of an obscure industrial block and found the other Shinigami lunging at the Hollow. He missed, narrowly avoiding its lashing tail as it spun around and ran again.

"Stop fuckin' running!" Renji demanded insanely, lashing out with Zabimaru and taking a chunk out of the street.

Ichigo jumped into the intersection, effectively heading it off. It shrieked at him and launched itself skyward but he was ready, following it up. He swung Zangetsu down and almost sighed with relief as he felt the blade bite into something solid. The Hollow screamed its rage at him, even as it started to disintegrate. He landed near Renji, watching until it faded into nothing.

"Fuckin'…runnin'…bullshit," Renji panted, leaning back against a wall and closing his eyes.

Ichigo laughed, slouching against the brick as well, running his sleeve over his forehead. He felt good, the adrenaline still pulsing in his veins, the light breeze cooling the sweat on the back of his neck. He turned so that his shoulder was pressed to the cold surface, still chuckling as Renji caught his breath.

Renji's tongue slipped out, wetting lips that remained softly parted as his breathing started to slow. Ichigo felt that strange pull in his chest, that twisting, tingling feeling that made his blood race. He felt his own tongue dart out, licking his lower lip in response, unable to look away. Renji's eyes were still closed, his head thrown back against the wall, exposing the curve of his throat to the night air. Ichigo watched as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his neck, tracing the contours of muscle and tendon that his fingers itched to follow. It disappeared under the edge of his robes, traveling down over that tattooed flesh that he could still see every time he closed his eyes. His smile fell away and he realized that he didn't feel like laughing anymore.

Ever since the abrupt end to that morning's activity, he'd been suffering from a complicated mixture of dissatisfaction, arousal, and irritation. If he remained idle for too long he could feel the memory of the fingers sliding over him like it was happening again, hear the echoes of the shuddering sounds as Renji moved against him. He'd been in a slightly uncomfortable state for most of the day, and suddenly it felt like he couldn't even breathe. He bit his lip to muffle the sound of frustration that tried to sneak out.

Renji heard it anyway, and his eyes cracked open as he turned his head, staring down at him intently. He could feel the raw need rolling off Ichigo in hot waves, sending an almost imperceptible shiver through him as his eyes darkened. He watched as Ichigo bit harder into his lip under the weight of his stare, his pulse pounding visibly beneath the delicate skin of his throat. A moment passed between them, a thickening of the air, a sudden heat in what had been a cool night, and Renji felt his stomach drop. He reached out, pressing his thumb against Ichigo's lip, pulling it out from between his teeth slowly. He traced along the soft curve, smoothing out the teeth marks, dipping into the warm mouth when the lips parted easily. Ichigo reacted without thought, licking the pad of the thumb, his breath hot and moist.

"Shit," Renji breathed, Zabimaru clattering to the ground as he reached for Ichigo, pulling him closer to taste his mouth.

Zangetsu joined Zabimaru as Ichigo's hands fisted in Renji's kimono, pressing into the kiss, sucking on the tongue sweeping into his mouth. One of Renji's hands was in his hair, tilting his head to the side, and the other was slipping down his back to crush them together. Ichigo made a soft, whimpering noise as a thigh ground against his already straining erection.

He pulled away from the kiss, leaning in to lick the side of Renji's neck, tasting the skin that had been haunting his dreams since his moment of drugged indiscretion. The tang of sweat mixed with Renji's unique, wild flavor, and Ichigo pressed closer, needing to burn it into his memory.

The redhead fell back, leaning against the wall, dragging Ichigo with him as he felt sharp teeth graze his skin. He gasped, his hips jerking forward, thrusting shallowly against Ichigo in a broken rhythm. He snaked a hand between them, pulling roughly at Ichigo's sash, peeling back the layers so that he could slide his hands over bare skin. Ichigo groaned at the contact, his breath stirring the fine hairs on Renji's neck.

The hand in his hair tightened, pulling him back to the kiss, their tongues crashing together with frenzied need. Ichigo's hands shook as he tugged at Renji's clothes, faltering a little when he felt calloused fingers sliding up his back. With a final dizzy effort he made it to skin, blunt nails scraping over the tattooed chest as Renji hissed into his mouth. He found a nipple, pinching it, twisting it hard just like he'd been shown.

"Ichigo…fuck…" Renji's head rolled back, his hands falling to the lean hips riding against him, shifting them sideways to grind their erections together.

Ichigo choked, his fingers biting down hard, drawing another spasm from the other man as he dropped his head onto the tattooed shoulder. Renji's hands left his hips, working the ties on his hakama, plunging inside to curl around Ichigo's aching cock and pumping hard. Teeth sank into his shoulder as the younger man cried out, straining against the touch.

Ichigo felt like he was on fire, his heart beating so fast that he thought he might choke on it. He was still sensitive from the morning, and the fingers stroking over him felt so good that it almost hurt. He wanted this so badly that he couldn't even think, couldn't do anything but moan brokenly as he thrust himself into that fist over and over again.

His hands fell from Renji's chest to tear at his hakama, needing to touch him, needing to make him feel the same burn that was quickly drowning him. Renji groaned, riding a shudder as the hand closed over him, sliding over his weeping head and down his pulsing length.

"Gods, yes…" he breathed against Ichigo's ear, biting down on the lobe as he pumped him faster.

Renji's hand ripped free, shoving Ichigo's hakama lower, licking a sloppy trail across his palm before gripping him again.

"Oh, shit…ngghh…fuck." Ichigo was writhing, straining against the fingers that where stealing his sanity.

He copied Renji's actions, tasting the salty fluid across his fingers, pulling him free so that he could slide over him, faster, harder. He squeezed his eyes shut, drinking in the sound of Renji's shuddering groans mingling with the ones spilling from his own lips. He sank his teeth into his shoulder again, feeling the world start to draw in on itself, throbbing between his legs as he started to convulse.

"Harder…" Renji's voice was dark and wild and Ichigo didn't know if he meant his hand or his teeth so he did both.

Renji threw his head back, not bothering to muffle his shout as he arched forward, thrusting into the rough fist. The sound was too much for Ichigo, shooting through him like lightning, shoving him over the edge.

He buried his face in the crook of Renji's neck, his sobbing moan muffled as he came, spilling hot over the still moving fingers. Renji tensed, his rhythm faltering as his own release screamed through him, pulsing between them in blinding waves of pleasure. The hand slid over him a couple more times, drawing out the orgasm, leaving him gasping for breath.

Ichigo finally released him, still panting into his neck as the shivers raked his body. Renji brought his clean hand up to thread through his hair, stroking the back of his neck as they wound their way back down. He rubbed his jaw against the orange hair, sliding against the sweat on his temple, in a lazy gesture of affection.

Ichigo pulled back, straightening up, flushed slightly with embarrassment. Renji cocked his head to one side, studying him intently and Ichigo managed a weak smile of reassurance. He stared shakily down at his hand, still coated in Renji's release, and at his stomach which had suffered a similar fate. He had no idea what to do about it. He flushed deeper, noticing that his hakama had pooled around his feet, trying not to stare at the fact that Renji was equally exposed.

The redhead chuckled lightly and Ichigo's head snapped back up, watching him raise his own hand to examine it with interest. He seemed to consider for a moment before tentatively licking the still warm fluids from the tip of one finger.

"Ugh." Ichigo wrinkled his nose, forgetting his momentary embarrassment. "Don't do that."

"Why not?" Renji licked the finger again, his brows furrowing as if he were trying to decipher the taste.

"Isn't it gross?" he asked, still looking disgusted.

"Well it ain't made of candy." Renji rolled his eyes. "But it ain't the worst thing I ever tasted. Figured it might be worth gettin' used to."

"Why?" Ichigo looked at him like he was crazy.

Renji just smirked at him, sucking the finger into his mouth up to the second knuckle, holding his gaze with heavy intent before slipping it in deeper. Ichigo felt a flush creep over him that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

"Oh," he breathed, unable to find any other words at the moment.

Renji let the finger fall from his mouth, smirking again. He dug around in the folds of his clothes with his clean hand, pulling out one of his bandanas and tossing it to Ichigo. The younger man blinked at it for a moment before realizing what it was for. He cleaned himself up the best he could before handing it back and worked on re-securing his clothing while Renji wiped himself down.

He brushed some invisible dirt off of his leg, trying to find something to do with his hands as he struggled to process everything that had just happened. He didn't feel the pull of the familiar panic, which he assumed was a good thing. Still, he couldn't help the embarrassment that rolled over him every time he remembered the sounds he'd been making, or the way he responded so shamelessly.

He'd never really thought of himself as a sexual person before. Sure, he was a guy and he had certain _needs_, but it was something that had always been a distant second to whatever crisis was going on in his life at the moment. He'd never been so overcome that he forgot where he was, or what he sounded like, or _everything_ except the blinding need for release.

A finger hooked under his jaw, tilting his face towards the man responsible for his current problem. "Ya okay?" Renji asked softly.

"Will you stop asking me that?" Ichigo scowled a little, irritated that he had been caught worrying, and that he was apparently so easy to read.

"You gonna stop lookin' like that?" Renji countered, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Ichigo's scowl darkened but Renji just snickered, leaning down to kiss him before releasing his chin. He fished his communicator out of his pocket and flipped it open, scanning through a couple of screens.

"Still got an hour 'till we gotta meet Hitsugaya, where do ya wanna head?"

Ichigo took the little device out of his hand, scrolling through maps of the city while Renji looked for a trashcan to dispose of the now overly sticky bandana. He had settled into a somewhat mechanical pace of page flipping when something caught his attention and he faltered. He hit the back button a couple of times until he came to a map of the street that Inoue's apartment was on. He frowned.

"Does this thing pick up Shinigami now?" he looked up as Renji returned.

"No." Renji gave him an odd look. "Why?"

Ichigo shrugged. "Just a weird reading on Inoue's street, but no alarm or anything. I thought maybe it was Matsumoto and Toushirou since they're staying there while she's in Soul Society."

"Weird how?" Renji took the offered communicator, staring down at the screen. For a second he didn't see anything, and then there was a soft flicker, a tiny, barely there pulse that was soon joined by a second. His eyes widened, a memory of blood slicked grass flashing through his mind.

"Shit!" He took off running even before he started to dial, knowing Ichigo would follow.

"What is it?" Ichigo was keeping pace beside him, matching his speed in shunpo.

"Arrancar," Renji growled, a sickening feeling settling in his stomach as the call continued to ring unanswered. He put on an extra burst of speed.


End file.
